


Prompt Fills from Tumblr - Dragon Age

by Akaiba



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 02:38:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 64
Words: 26,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3751234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akaiba/pseuds/Akaiba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All of my Dragon Age prompts from Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cullrian+wedding plans

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 - Cullrian+wedding plans. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 2 - Sullen+Submission. Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 3 - Sullen+Please. Rated Explicit  
> Chapter 4 - Handers+Run. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 5 - Cullrian+Coma. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 6 - Sullen+Bait (pirate au). Rated Gen.  
> Chatper 7 - Cullrian+Get on your knees. Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 8 - Sullen+Did we fuck last night? Rated Teen.  
> Chapter 9 - Cullrian - "I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow." Rated Mature.  
> Chapter 10 - Cullrian - "It's not going to fit!" Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 11 - Sullen+"I'm going to make it hurt." Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 12 - Cullrian+one of them losing their eyesight. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 13 - Cullrian+Strip teasing. Rated Mature.  
> Chapter 14 - Cullrian+Fluff. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 15 - Cullrian + triggers. Rated Teen.  
> Chapter 16 - Cullrian+Confessing a Fetish. Rated Teen.  
> Chapter 17 - Cullrian+Private Time . Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 18 - Cullrian+turning the other off. Rated Mature.  
> Chapter 19 - Cullrian + being drenched whilst wearing white. Rated Teen.  
> Chapter 20 - Cullrian + Begging. Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 21 - Cullrian+"I'm frightened, Dorian." Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 22 - Fenders+"And in the end, I'd do it all again. I think you're my best friend". Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 23 - Cullrian+"I've been aching to see you helpless like this Amatus." Rated Teen.  
> Chapter 24 - Cullrian; "I thought about asking you to marry me, but I never got the chance." Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 25 - Cullrian+"I'd love to dress you up in pearls. Gold. Silk. Anything to let them know you belong to me Cullen." Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 26 - Cullrian+it was definitely bigger than the last one. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 27 - Cullrian+"I don't think I've ever seen you turn a more delicious shade of red Cullen." Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 28 - Cullrian+"Dorian, anybody could see!" Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 29 - Cullrian+Spanking. Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 30 - Cullrian+Captured. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 31 - MTrevelyan/Dorian + bath. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 32: cullrian, BUSTED. Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 33: Cullrian+Cullen is insecure about the state of his quarters. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 34: Cullrian, litany. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 35: Adoribull - skinny dipping. Rated gen.  
> Chapter 36: Cullrian - lost. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 37: Cullrian - expensive. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 38: Cullrian - betrayal. Rated Teen.  
> Chapter 39: Cullrian - cosy. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 40: Cullrian + kids. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 41: Fenders + marriage. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 42: Cullrian - Death. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 43: Cullrian+Loss of Control. Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 44: Cullrian+Virgin Dorian. Rated Teen.  
> Chapter 45: Cullrian. Cullen is a virgin. Rated Mature.  
> Chapter 46: Cullrian+Just the Cloak. Rated Teen.  
> Chapter 47: Cullrian+bondage. Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 48: Iron Bull/Cullen "It's not going to fit!" Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 49: Sebastian/Cullen - "Punish me." Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 50: Cullrian -"I’m your Master and you’ll do what I say." Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 51: Cullen/Blackwall-Touch yourself for me . Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 52: Cullrian-Losing a Limb. Rated G.  
> Chapter 53: Cullrian-Booty Worship. Rated Explicit  
> Chapter 54: Cullrian-Cullen spoiling Dorian rotten. Rated G.  
> Chapter 55: Cullrian-cuddlemonster cullen. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 56: Cullrian-Wrong hole!". Rated Teen.  
> Chapter 57: Sullen-Put on a show for me. Rated Explicit  
> Chapter 58: Cullrian "safe place". Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 59: Cullrian-Temptation. Rated Explicit.  
> Chapter 60: Cullrian+Makeup. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 61: Cullrian-pinning the other against a wall. Rated Teen.  
> Chapter 62: Cullrian-porn stash. Rated Teen.  
> Chapter 63: Cullrian-Cure for a Cold. Rated Gen.  
> Chapter 64: One-sided Cullrian, Cullen/Inquisitor-Unrequited. Rated Gen.

Of all the wedding traditions Cullen had been forced into for his wedding, this was his least favourite. He’d take the cake sampling and the flower arranging, the table balancing and the days of fittings, the rehearsals and the tiring dance lessons with Vivienne… he’d take all of it over this one thing.

Neither of them are chaste, he doesn’t see the point in this one. Cullen turns over in his bed restlessly, the bed too wide and empty, sheets too cold without Dorian there to curl into his side and grumble about how awful Fereldan weather is. Cullen misses the tickle of a moustache on his neck and the cold toes pressed to his legs for warmth. It’s just one night, he thinks, and that’s when it hits him. 

This is his last night as Cullen Rutherford.

Tomorrow, he marries Dorian in front of friends and family and the accepted nobility who would of course be there. Nerves bubbled excitedly in his stomach, eyes wide as he stared at the ceiling of his room and he fidgeted in the bed. He would leave Skyhold’s hall as Cullen Pavus. He screws his eyes shut and wills sleep to find him, wills the fade to take him, because tomorrow is going to be wonderful and he needs it to happen soon. He wants tomorrow and what it brings, among them hopefully never having to sleep alone again.


	2. Sullen + Submission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sullen + Submission

Samson has never submitted in his life. He did not submit to the Chantry and it’s rules on mages, nor the Knight-Commander and her iron-fisted rule. He did not sumbit to poverty or the lyrium song, even if he never kicked the drug he didn’t give in to it. He didn’t even really submit to Corypheus.

Even beaten, captured, without hope or cause, Samson will not submit to the Inquisition- not to Cullen. The information he gives, he does so because he doesn’t care to withhold it. It is not submission. He still has a smart mouth that riles up the guards and pisses off anyone in earshot, still knows how to ruffle Cullen with five words or less. The iron bars he stands behind and the chains he wears do nothing to break him. They do not push him to his knees without a fight and Cullen sees nothing but a challenge in Samson’s eyes.

“Still so tight, Rutherford.” Samson snarls and Cullen bites down on a groan as Samson fucks him harder into the cell wall. The guards will return soon, they don’t have time to make it sweet or gentle- not that Samson ever knew what that was either.

Samson might not know what submission is, but Cullen understands the concept intimately.


	3. Sullen + "Please"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sullen + "Please"

“You have to say ‘please’, Cullen. Otherwise you can’t cum.” Samson slips his fingers free from Cullen, watching the man writhe under him as he impatiently moans for more. He slicks his cock lazily, watching as Cullen’s flushed face glares harder. “Nothing?” Cullen splutters and chokes on no doubt fevered words of disdain, but the gag holds them all silenced where the ball holds his mouth open and full. “Well aren’t you so very giving…” Samson grins, pushing Cullen’s thighs wide. “Just letting my use your body how I like, not even wanting to cum yourself…”

Cullen’s eyes scrunch shut as he arches, a garbled cry as Samson fills him without warning or pause. His cock jumps eagerly against his belly but the cock ring keeps him held caught in that agonising suspense of withheld release.

“All I need is a please, Cullen. Good boys ask nicely for what they want.” Samson’s grin is feral as he thrusts into Cullen hard, no care for a slow gentle build as Cullen thrashes his head from side to side and looks up at him pleadingly, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as the thrusts continue at the rough pace. “Have it your way.” Samson sneers, Cullen’s choked wails bouncing off the walls of their room and Samson wouldn’t be surprised if the Kinght-Commander herself could hear Cullen.


	4. Handers - Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> handers - run

“No, please-”

“We don’t have time for this! Get out of here!”

“I shouldn’t even be alive! You should have-”

“Don’t you dare! You know I would never, now get moving!”

“Hawke, please!” Anders’ voice cracked on the last syllable, fingers reaching for Hawke again as the man pushed him away. The hoofbeats were getting closer and Anders was out of mana, Hawke’s leg still injured from their last narrow escape. Sebastian was being just as ruthless as he had promised he would. “He wouldn’t harm you, you were friends!”

Hawke cupped Anders’ face, limping a little with every pull on his thigh. “But he would hurt you and I-I… I can’t. You can’t ask that of me, not after…” Malcolm, Carver, Bethany, Leandra. His entire family and now Anders? Not if Hawke still had breath. “Please, love.” He pressed their foreheads together and Anders hiccuped on a sob as they heard voices, loud and close.

“Hawke…” The mage hissed desperately as Hawke hefted his huge broadsword.

“Get going.” He flashed Anders an entirely false grin. “I’ll catch up.”

“No you won’t.” Anders shook his head, protesting as Hawke pushed him again.

Horses broke into the clearing and Hawke’s grin turned into a fierce snarl, “Run!”

The Nightmare peered at Hawke from above, it’s countless eyes taking in every twitch of his agony and his fear. “You don’t know that he’s alive…” It hisses. “And yet here you are, still fighting… how pitiable. He did not fight for you. He brought the world to ruin around you and left you to face the King and his men alone… Sebastian spared you but you did not find Anders after, did you? Gone without a trace… you wonder if he’s been waiting to leave you all along…”

The truth of it hurts, stings deeper than Hawke can shrug off, and he clings to the image of Ander’s grief-stricken face before he had turned and run. He lets that be his proof that Anders loved him and he will not let the Nightmare demon take it from him.


	5. Cullrian+Coma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+Coma

“We’re married?”

“Yes.”

“You married me? In front of people?”

A chuckle. “Yes.”

“Do my parents know about this?”

“They did not attend because you did not invite them, but yes, they know. They sent a very nice gift.”

“They sent a gift?! For me marrying a man?!” Dorian’s pitch was reaching shrill now and Cullen took his hand gently to calm him. The mage’s eyes dropped to their hands, to the wedding band on Cullen’s hand that matched the one on his that he has no memory of getting. “I am in the fade.”

Cullen shakes his head. “I am afraid not. You spent an awful six months in the fade, however. I was… terrified. That you would not wake.”

“But I did. I just… don’t remember you. Or anyone. I don’t remember anything since… my leaving my Father’s estate after h-he…”

Five years, gone so fast. Cullen is looking at the man who fell into his arms at the fall of Haven again. Not the husband he has loved for so many years. But Dorian doesn’t seem to mind the situation. He is irritated at the loss of memory but he seems happy enough to find out that he is married, and considering how many times Cullen had had to ask the man to marry him he had thought that would be awful news.

Varric enters the room and smiles at Dorian awake and bright-eyed. “Hey Sparkler, how are you?”

Dorian grins. “I have no idea who you are but that,” He points at Cullen, “Is my husband!” And if out of all of this, Cullen gets to fall in love with Dorian all over again, then maybe it isn’t such a bad thing.


	6. Sullen+Bait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sullen+Bait (pirate au)

This was never going to work. The plan was simple enough in it’s design but Cullen took issue with the key factor Samson was pinning all of it on; namely Cullen. Their target had a fancy for broader ladies and as much makeup as Dorian had insisted he wear, Cullen was reasonably certain he still wouldn’t pass for a women under scrutiny. If it didn’t work, then it didn’t work. It wasn’t too big a deal, they had a backup plan. Cullen knew this was likely just to embarrass him. Get him to wear a bustle skirt and a corset, stockings exposed like a tavern whore. If his mother could see him now…

Cullen shoved it all down and stepped deliberately into the room. In three steps he felt gazes on him but forced himself not to look as he meandered slowly through the tables- dancing out of reach of leery hands- and towards the back room. A hand closed on his rear when he was barely through the door.

“Well hello there, beautiful…” Cullen’s nose scrunched as hot, sour breath ghosted over his neck. The hands wandered as they stepped further in but Samson’s gun cocked near by and the door to the back room shut, Cullen and Samson alone with their guest who inhaled in alarm.

“That cannot have worked.” Cullen said in horror.

“Told ya, Rutherford, you’ve got a fantastic arse.” Samson grinned.


	7. Cullrian+Get on your knees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+Get on your knees

“No.”

“It wasn’t a question.”

“I’m not your toy.” Cullen is expecting the mage to lash out, the Venatori’s face instead moves from disapproval to a mocking smile.

“Not yet.” The mage agrees. He cups Cullen’s face and Cullen fights against his bonds, desperate to wrap them around the Venatori’s throat and squeeze hard. “But I have such plans…” He presents a vial of liquid, throbbing red and glittering in a way Cullen has only ever seen in blue. He knows what it is. “And for a Templar trying to break free of Lyrium, what I hold here must be tempting beyond belief.”

Cullen wants to throw back a remark but he grits his jaw tight, lips sealed so firmly the skin turns white and the mage just smiles again. He dips his finger into the vial and paints a syrupy smear over Cullen’s lips, patiently waiting as the scent curls into Cullen’s nose and his body fights the urge to lick his lips. It is unlike Lyrium, darker, stronger, pulling at him just for the knowledge it will be so much more powerful than normal Lyrium.

The mage pinches his nose and Cullen watches him take a shallow sip from the vial, smirk curling under his ridiculous moustache as Cullen’s vision begins to blur.

The moment his mouth opens, the mage is on him. Their mouths press together and Cullen’s head is tipped back, warmth and power and red lyrium pouring into his mouth, stained on their lips and Cullen can’t spit it out with the way the mage is kissing him, swallowing and feeling his body spark with power. The empty well of need and absent force is now full, red where it was blue, and Cullen is half mad with how it curls into his sense. He’s hard and he doesn’t know why, every part of him at peak performance and better than he has felt even when he had been taking Lyrium.

It is only when the mage draws back that Cullen realises he was kissing back. “See; you’ll do perfectly. You will be mine soon enough.” He gives the vial a shake, watches how Cullen’s eyes narrow on it before he empties it into his mouth. This time, Cullen lunges at the mage and hungrily drinks the liquid from him, no instruction needed. 

His arms flex and power courses through him, tearing the bonds apart and gathering the mage up, surging to stand and pinning the mage against a wall. The mage isn’t fighting him but when he tries to tear their mouths apart, Cullen twists his fingers into the dark hair, forces them together and rocks against the mage hard. He isn’t the only one who is hard but he hasn’t the presence of mind other than this, his sense burning everywhere he touches the mage and achingly hard as he crushes them together. It’s fast, inelegant and brutal. The mage’s teeth are stained with blood when his head falls back, crying out his release, and Cullen can taste it on his tongue. He sinks his teeth into Dorian’s neck instead, ignoring the protesting scolding and the hands pulling on his hair in favour of lapping up the copper taste and smirking at the damage done.

He doesn’t cum, not before the high starts to fade and he realises what he’s done. The power settles but does not fade, whatever animalistic haze now passing and he can stare at the mage slumped in his grasp in horror. He staggers back and the mage’s smile is lazy but no less triumphant.

“I knew you would respond beautifully.” He crows. Cullen’s horror twists to rage but before he can do more than snarl, he’s frozen in place with a flick of the mage’s wrist. “I am keeping you.” The mage promises and Cullen feels cold dread pool in his stomach.


	8. Sullen+Did we fuck last night?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sullen+Did we fuck last night?

Cullen can feel a split lip. It’s bled onto the bedsheet and he has to tear the scab off to pull free. He groans, burying his face into his arms and refusing to move. He’s got a hangover, and if he tries really hard he can remember drinking the ale that is so cruelly punishing him now.

Samson is in his bed, which isn’t an odd event when they stagger back drunk the rare times they stop bickering to go to the tavern and make it back. They’re an odd pair of friends but Cullen is not concerned by Samson sleeping next to him. The older man groans and rubs at his no doubt own pouding head, blearily looks over at Cullen. “Did we fuck last night?” He grunts. Cullen is about to laugh and tell him to sod off when he realises they’re both naked.

A flash of memory, rough hand in his hair and teeth on his neck, crying out loudly as he rocks back against-

Cullen pushes up onto his elbows and suddenly chokes at the dull throb of last night’s activities, it’s all the evidence he needs. He’d thought they’d fought, from the bruises and the split lip, but no… Cullen buries his face into his arms and ignores Samson’s laughter. It gets worse when Samson tugs the sheet off and chokes through his peals of laughter, “I bit your ass!” and Cullen can feel the mark now, reaching out to whack Samson only to whip is head around idignantly when Samson smacks him on his smarting rear.

“Come on, Rutherford. It’s pretty funny.” Samson is wiping his eyes and looks so happy for a man who just woke up with a hangover and in bed with his roommate. “Wonder if I finally worked that stick outta you…” Samson doesn’t even bother to dodge the pillow that gets flung at him.


	9. Cullrian - "I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian - "I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow."

It’s somewhere between Dorian tearing at his clothes so hard and the teeth on his neck that Cullen realises he may have taken teasing Dorian a little too far. Honestly, he hadn’t even flirted back with the recruit. He was fairly sure she was just some sort of bright person who was just being friendly.

Dorian seems to disagree.

Cullen was span around and pushed over his own desk, shock and not being all that resistant making the movement easy as Dorian wrenches open his desk drawer. “You think that was funny, do you, amatus?” Dorian growls.

“F-funny? That? No. This is, though.” Cullen is in deep enough as it is, why not see how far he can push Dorian?

Dorian snarls and two slick fingers push into without warning. Cullen arches and cries out as Dorian’s teeth find his shoulder. “I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow, amatus.” Dorian vows and Cullen doesn’t doubt it. “Lets see how you flirt with those recruits when you’re still limping from what I have done to you.”

Cullen might try it, just to see what Dorian does then.


	10. Cullrian - "It's not going to fit!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian - "It's not going to fit!"

Cullen is laying on his front, face pressed into the bed and knees almost to his chest as he keens loudly. He is sweat slicked and frantic, Dorian’s free hand rubbing soothing circles into his lower back as if he were a frightened animal. “You’re doing so well, amatus, look at you.” He praises.

Cullen’s face turns, thin reedy gasps of air as he feels the four fingers and thumb flexing in him. They turn and shift, teasing him looser and searching for the right angle to push deeper. “It won’t fit! Maker, Dorian, it won’t fit!” He panics.

Dorian leans over and peppers kisses, free hand rubbing the tensed muscles and keeping a gentle rocking with his hand within Cullen. “It will, amatus. Do you want me to stop, however?”

Cullen’s head thrashes a ‘no’ into the pillow. “Please…” He whines, trailing off into a soundless cry as Dorian’s knuckles finally breach him and he freezes.

“Look, amatus; it fits.” Dorian smirks, shifting his hand and watching Cullen writhe.


	11. Sullen+"I'm going to make it hurt."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sullen+"I'm going to make it hurt."

“‘Not here’, you said.” Samson hisses in his ear, Cullen arching and muffling a cry as the fingers in him spread wide with not enough slick. It doesn’t cool his desire like it should, instead spiking heat in his belly and making him press back. “‘Sam, you’re such a lech’, you said.”

“Sam, just hurry up!” Cullen begs, hands braced on his hips as he holds up his templar skirts and Samson sneers at him.

“But when Ser Cullen wants a buggering, then its fine.” Samson tacks on to his rant before Cullen whines at the fingers slipping free and the older man’s hard cock pushing insistently at him. “Better bite down on those skirts, Rutherford. I’m gonna make it hurt.” He snarls and Cullen is scrambling for something to hold on to as he tries not to scream.


	12. Cullrian+one of them losing their eyesight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+one of them losing their eyesight

“Cullen!” Dorian hit the ground and cried out, panic overtaking him as his vision refused to clear. He could hear the battle continuing around them and there was no reprieve.

A hand closed over his reaching one and Dorian clutched at it. “Dorian, what’s wrong?”

“I c-can’t… my sight. I can’t see!” He babbled in frantic fear. There was not even time to seek a healer- of which Dorian was a pitiful one- as the battle raged on. They had to first survive this and then they could see that the damage wasn’t permanent.

“Up.” Cullen ordered, his lover clinging to him as Cullen stepped behind him. His mind whirred quickly as he strapped his shield to his back, the only defence he could allow his unguarded flank as he took Dorian’s wrists in his hands and pressed against the mage’s back. “Do as I say.”

“Cullen?” There is panicked fear in every word as Dorian’s eyes blinked furiously and Cullen could see the scratches around them, the skin torn and bleeding. He worried Dorian might never recover but they don’t have time for that. They could fall apart with panic later, for the moment they had to survive. Dorian shouldn’t have even been so close to the front that a rogue’s vial could hit him, Cullen snapped at himself, the damned mage always insisting he had to be closer to raise more corpses to aid them.

“I am going to move your hands and tell you what is there, okay?” Cullen spoke directly into Dorian’s ear and the mage nodded. “Alright.” Their pause hadn’t gone unnoticed by their enemy and three templars charged them. “Three templars, left hand.” Cullen murmured as he moved Dorian’s hand to point at them, releasing the other hand so Dorian could masterfully twirl his staff and swallow the men in fire. Cullen stepped back up to hold Dorian again, “Right hand, slightly higher than us, that angle. Two, panic them.”

It was difficult to fall into the pattern but Dorian obeyed as instructed, trusting Cullen implicitly. Cullen froze as a templar charged them, much closer than the other three had been, and there was no time for Dorian to cast. The mage made a startled noise when Cullen released him entirely, feeling the man dart around him and roar. Steel clashed against steel, Dorian frozen still and listening as Cullen fought in close quarters. He did not see the sword bite into Cullen’s side, deep enough that Cullen grunted out in pain but did not falter.

The templar falls in the next swing and Dorian felt a splatter of blood over his cheek.

“Cullen?”

Cullen stepped behind him again. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” It wasn’t an answer, and yet it was. Dorian trusted they would survive this battle and the fear that his eyesight loss was permanent didn’t seem so much of a problem. He’d prefer it wasn’t, but this at least proved he wouldn’t be helpless if it was.

Cullen ignored the pain in his sword, the blood flowing freely down his side and chilling him to the bone. He couldn’t afford to pay it any mind, not while he had to guide Dorian and ensure the mage survived, all the while ensuring their victory. It would be fine, Cullen told himself, as long as they won, as long as Dorian was alive. It would be fine. The battle waged for so long and Cullen could feel his strength slipping, dizziness claiming him as he heard his men cheering in victory.

They survived the battle and the first Dorian learned of Cullen’s injury was the panicked cries of soldier’s for aid. He had thought they were for him until Cullen’s grip on him fell slack and the Commander slumped to the floor.

No one told Dorian what was happening as frantic healers ran around him, one sitting him down to tend to his eyes but offering him no explanation as to what was going on.

His eyes blinked open after a gentle healing spell from an apprentice mage.

The first thing he saw was the next bed over to his, Cullen laid out and still. Too still.

_“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”_

It wasn’t permanent, his sight loss, but Dorian would have given it up entirely to never see that.


	13. Cullrian+stripteasing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+stripteasing

Cullen had made a laughable fool of himself when Dorian had asked him to strip slower, huffing and turning red with uncomfortable embarrassment until Dorian fondly offered to show him what he meant.

So they switch places; Cullen lying back on the bed with one arm behind his head as he watches Dorian at the foot of the bed. Cullen’s naked now and while there is no shame in being so, he doesn’t have the same self-assured confidence that Dorian has. Cullen finds his nakedness perfunctory, their situation sort of implies that nakedness is required, but the way Dorian is undoing his buckles with a smirk makes it appear like his impending nakedness is a favour he’s doing all of Thedas.

The unattached sleeve goes first, slipping off with a tug of Dorian’s other hand and he seems so bare already at that, one muscled, dark skinned arm flexing in it’s newfound freedom before both hands return to his many buckles. Each clink of metal as Cullen anticipating until finally Dorian pulls his shirt over his head and he is bared to his waist. It’s such a slow roll of motion, Dorian’s arms pulling up high and teasingly dragging the material up. He bares slivers of his belly in an increasing amount and Cullen wants to move his mouth over that skin, wants to follow the path of the shirt and sink his teeth into the mage- such possessiveness he tries to tamper down but Dorian must know, he knows the mage likes to antagonise it free. 

Dorian’s arms pull the shirt all the way over his head until his arms are stretched taut and his back arched. His muscles shift invitingly and Cullen is aware of just how avidly he is staring. Dorian had been right, there is an art to this.

Even removing his shoes, Cullen watches fixedly. Dorian brings his leg up to rest on the bottom of the bed, undoing his straps and sliding the boot free- first one, then the other. His toes flex at the freedom and Dorian stands straight again. He would almost look like he were simply undressing for bed if not for the slowness of his motions and the smirk that does not leave. Dorian knows exactly what he is doing and Cullen can’t say he minds. 

Dorian’s fingers do not immediately grasp for his trousers, instead they drag down his chest, over his belly where Cullen wants to run his tongue, down to his crotch where he gently teases his cock through his trousers. Cullen watches every movement and his feet shift on the bed as his inaction frustrates himself. He knows that he should just lie back and enjoy but he wants to get his hands on Dorian now. Dorian rubs at himself a little firmer and his head falls back in a pleased hum as he finally loosens the ties of his trousers, Cullen rumbling what might be a growl of impatience or approval as the material is inched down.

Of course, today would be the day Dorian decides to wear small clothes for once. Instead of the usual- and expected- sight of Dorian’s cock, Cullen is treated to silk. It is pulled taut around the outline of Dorian’s cock and Cullen eyes it as the trousers reveal finely muscled thighs. Dorian steps out of his trousers and turns.

The silk small clothes, pristine white with a gold chain at the hips, so decadently indulgent and Cullen can’t say he’s ever seen anyone invest so much in underwear, but they frame Dorian’s rear wonderfully. The man has a full arse that Cullen also likes to bite and mark, and wrapped so nicely he wants all the more. Dorian looks over his shoulder at where Cullen has started to touch his stirring cock, flushed at being observed but not stopping as Dorian’s smirk widens even more.

“Enjoying the show?” Dorian purrs.

Cullen hums his agreement and then protests the pause, “Continue.”

Dorian shivers and Cullen knows what orders do to Dorian, how readily he obeys- or disobeys, to see what Cullen will do to punish him.

This time he obeys and Cullen watches as the expensive material of Dorian’s small clothes slides down the roundness of his rear, Dorian bending unnecessarily at the waist to help guide them to the floor as Cullen is treated to a full view of Dorian’s arse. Cullen’s hand grips his cock a little firmer and he groans, Dorian standing tall again to turn and smugly look over Cullen on the bed.

“That’s how you strip for a lover.” Dorian informs him, as if he were merely teaching a lesson.

Cullen grunts his acknowledgement even if he isn’t listening at all, reaching for Dorian and dragging him down to the bed, pinning the mage beneath him and rolling their hips together.

Cullen never gains that level of confidence that Dorian has in this, even in just stripping, but Dorian doesn’t seem to mind and even when he fumbles with his clothes the next day, Dorian seems to find his clumsiness endearing and Cullen doesn’t feel as much of a fool as he no doubt looks.


	14. Cullrian+Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+Fluff

“You have deposited what onto my bed before the sun has come up?” Dorian demands of the leaky ceiling as Cullen, already dressed and having run drills in the early hours, stands over him still sprawled in bed.

The weight on his blanket covered legs shuffles about and whines. Dorian’s head cranes up sharply.

“Cullen. There is a creature on my bed. Remove it.”

“Our bed.”

“There is a creature on our bed- remove it.” Dorian amends, quick as Cullen had corrected.

“It’s a puppy, Dorian, you’re acting like I dumped Bronto muck all over the bed.” Cullen folds his arms and smiles indulgently down at the puppy as it bounds, all gangly and uncoordinated limbs, up the bed to lick at Dorian’s face. “A mabari puppy.” Cullen adds proudly.

“You may as well have dumped Bronto muck on the bed- oh that is disgusting, what is it doing that for?!” Dorian sat upright to hold the excited puppy in both hands and away from his face.

“That means he likes you.” Cullen’s smile widens, as if the puppy liking Dorian has any bearing on what Dorian thinks of it.

They both freeze as the puppy starts peeing. Right onto Dorian.

That the puppy doesn’t end up charred in the exchange is a testament to how fast Cullen can move, snatching the wriggling puppy up and away from the enraged mage.

“Get that thing-!”

“Fluff.”

Dorian freezes, mid wiping himself clean. “I’m sorry.”

“His name is Fluff.”

“Please tell me you did not name it.”

Cullen flushes, “No. I didn’t. Leliana had already named them all.”

“‘Them’?! Cullen, amatus, please, tell me there aren’t more of these mongrels around Skyhold?!”

“Uh…” Cullen trails off and Dorian starts swearing in Tevene.

The dog does grow on Dorian eventually, but he never quite forgives him for peeing on him in that first meeting.


	15. Cullrian + triggers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian + triggers

It is no surprise to anyone that Cullen has triggers. He is a soldier, an experienced one, who suffered through enough famous disasters that will go down in history to have more than his fair share of triggers.

It is a common enough thing in Tevinter- soldiers who have battled against the Qunari who cannot stand fireworks or explosive magicks, cowering in fear and muttering about Qunari black powder. Here it is similar, if the triggers slightly different.

Cullen does not react well to being crept up on. He will lash out before he can breathe and there is such fear and determination to live in his wild eyes that Dorian hadn’t even felt he could justify his miscalculation as he clutched his struck jaw. Cullen had of course all but fallen to his knees in horrified apology as Dorian healed the mark and laughed it off. He knew Cullen would never hurt him intentionally, he knew that to his core, and simply made note to announce his presence to Cullen first.

The man sometimes flinched around magic too. Not if he was aware it was coming, was looking at the mage and could see the staff and hand movements. So he could brace himself. Dorian had only noticed when Cullen was working late and Dorian kindly switched his low, sputtering candle for a new one. He had lit a small flame between his fingers to catch on the wick and Cullen had jerked away from Dorian as if he had raised the dead in his office. The apologies come again- “It isn’t anything personal- no, Maker no, I have no problem with mages, it’s just…” Dorian knew enough to fill in, “Just magic.” Cullen had hurried to add, “Sometimes it… startles me.”- Dorian hushes him and apologises for not being more considerate.

Dorian adjusts to each and every one of them- he informs Cullen when he is about to use magic near him, he calls to him and never surprises Cullen with kisses to keep him comfortable. He doesn’t shake Cullen from nightmares or hold him down, just moves his hands over Cullen gently and calls him to waking. He keeps Lyrium bottles away from Cullen and out of his reach, doesn’t mention their existence if he can help it. He gives Cullen whatever he needs when he is flashbacks and episodes- space, comfort, an ear to listen. Whatever it is he needs.

Cullen is pacing agitatedly as he frets over visiting dignitaries they are all being trotted out to meet and impress, Dorian reading by the fire and trying to ease his worries with humour.

“Amatus, you act as if you are about to be thrown to the wolves! There will be food and wine and polite conversation and then we can retire. And never worry, I will be there.”

“Dorian, that is half the problem.” Cullen sighs, rubbing at his brow. “You’re a noble, you should know how to behave but you never do! You have to make comments and embarrass someone- us or them- and it’s just not what you should be doing!”

Dorian looks up from his book, surprised at the outburst. “I’m sorry, are you criticising me?" 

"Yes. Yes, I am.” Cullen is as stressed as Dorian has ever seen him but he can’t feel sympathy at the sudden attack on his person. “You should be setting an example- a mage from Tevinter has far more standing to lose us if you cause offence!”

“I am never that bad! I have never done one thing to risk the Inquisition’s reputation!” Dorian objects.

“That is hardly a commendation- you should be an exemplar of us, not simply ‘not an embarrassment’. Do you think you might manage that for one night? Just don’t be yourself, for one night.”

Dorian stares at Cullen, words caught in his throat around shock and surprise. “Not… not myself?” He repeats.

“It isn’t a difficult matter, Dorian, simply choose not to be… that.”

“Father, I c-can’t. I’ve tried, I-”

“You are choosing to be a reprobate, an embarrassment to this household. You would cast aside all that this House has built, generations of greatness for nothing!”

“It isn’t nothing, father, please, I beg of you!”

“If you will not change yourself, I will change you in your stead. There will be a way, blood magic might offer a chance to correct this mistake.”

“No, father, you can’t mean that, I might die or worse!”

“And you think I would have this embarrassment as testament to our bloodline?! No, you must be changed- corrected.”

“You… you think… I need to change.” Dorian’s breath is coming faster and he is staring at Cullen like he can see his father in his place. He does not hear Cullen call out for him, or the frantic apologies that follow, as he staggers to the door and flees. He flees from Cullen like he fled from his father and he does not look back.

He runs to the Inquisitor and he hides in her bed, listens to her refuse Cullen entry and bluntly tell him that if he lingers she will punch him in the face. Dorian wants to tell her to be gentler with Cullen, the man carries so much, but Dorian’s wounds are picked fresh and he curls tighter into himself.

He is silent at court the next day. He lingers by the wall and is quietly, politely charming when he is spoken to but he is not his usual self. He is the very picture of composed, reserved mage. Dorian can feel Cullen watching but he avoids him and just hopes Cullen approves of his manner. It isn’t as though Cullen is obeying for anyone else’s approval. The Inquisitor had almost ordered him to insult someone’s shoes already but he couldn’t. It wasn’t like when his father had tried to change him, this was his lover. His will to rebel wilted under that ire.

“Dorian.” Cullen’s voice stirs him from his thoughts and he sees that the Commander has managed to corner him finally. 

“Commander.” Cullen flinches at the title.

“Dorian, I… I must apologise.”

“Not at all, the guests of court today seem to approve of a changed me. Your criticisms were apparently necessary.” His words were cutting in their falseness, Cullen ducking his head in shame as he protested.

“No, no, Dorian I was wrong. I should never have… you are perfect as you are. I should never have dared to imply otherwise. And what I said… what I said was utterly wrong. But how I said it was… I brought back bad memories, didn’t I?” Cullen murmurs softly, daring to step closer and freezing when Dorian glares at him.

“What could possibly give you that idea?”

“I am not the only one who flinches at certain things.” Dorian has no response to that but his glare does not lessen. “Tell me, love, please. Let me make it right, tell me how I can.” Cullen pleads.

Dorian contemplates his uncharacteristically full glass. “I want to pour this glass of wine over your head. Then I want to storm out as I swear at you in Tevene and set the Duchess’ horrific wig on fire.” He watches as Cullen pales, Dorian raising an elegant eyebrow in a challenge. “That is the scene I want to cause and the one you will suffer through. Then you are going to spend the next three days making it up to me.”

Cullen’s shoulders sag in acceptance of defeat. “Very well, love.”

“Thank you, amatus.” Dorian smiles slightly, before dumping his entire glass over Cullen’s head and proceeding to do exactly has he had explained he would. 

Cullen, with wine dripping down his face as he blinked it from his eyes, smiled sappily after Dorian as he cut a path through the courtiers, spitting acidic Tevene at Cullen over his shoulder and sparking the Duchess’ wig to catch fire. Cullen wasn’t the only one with triggers and he had a feeling after this, he would never forget that.


	16. Cullrian+Confessing a Fetish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+Confessing a Fetish

“Oh come now, Cullen, it cannot truly be as bad as all that.” Dorian teases as he watches Cullen’s face flush so dark he might be concerned for Cullen’s welfare if it persists.

“C-can we talk about this l-later?” Cullen hisses as they cross the ramparts.

“Well that crosses exhibitionism off the list.” Dorian gives a dramatic sigh. “No one can hear us, amatus, we are alone up here.” He twirls the end of his moustache with his fingers before asking brightly, “Oh! Eating you out when I’ve already finished inside of you?”

“M-Maker’s breath!” Cullen chokes and buries his face in his hands.

Dorian huffs, “I was so sure it was that.” He taps his chin. “Would you like me to wear a collar?” Cullen groans again and curls his shoulders inwards. “Would you like to be the one wearing a collar?” He pats Cullen’s shoulder. “There, there, amatus, there is no shame in that. I promise, you would look-”

“SPANKING!” Cullen shouts suddenly, the still morning air broken by the furious cry, “I want to spank you!”

There is nothing but stillness as the words bounce around the stone walls and echo back and Dorian observes Cullen’s frustrated, weary face. “Oh.” He says, before smirking. “Is that all? Done.” He waves his hand dismissively, as if the way his eyes have darkened with lust don’t let Cullen know vividly that Dorian would like them to go indoors now.

“Whoo! Go Cullen!” Bull’s roar comes from below, Dorian and Cullen peering over the edge in alarm as they are greeted with a courtyard of stunned faces.

Servants with dropped goods as they stare up at the Commander in surprise, soldiers caught between horror and being impressed, and of course Bull and his chargers cheering and whooping at them.

“You said they wouldn’t hear!” Cullen accuses.

Dorian waves his hands at Cullen, “Well they wouldn’t have if someone hadn’t felt the need to scream his desires to the Maker!”

“Spank that Vint good!” Bull adds cheerfully from below.

Cullen’s mortification turns him almost purple and Dorian pityingly leads him back to his office, flipping Bull off below as they leave. Thanks to the Qunari and his lack of tact, it took entirely too long to get Cullen to agree to try his desire out.

Dorian can’t say Cullen leaves him wanting though. He’s far too smug when he comments at the tavern later, “Ooh, I don’t think I can manage a seat, I’m afraid.” Winking over his cup at Cullen who buries his face in his hands to the jeering of the chargers.


	17. Cullrian+Private Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+Private Time

It isn’t often that Cullen wakes up last. Or alone. When it does happen it is for a few days or weeks at a time, Dorian taken from him to be at the Inquisitor’s side and while Cullen understands this he doesn’t much like waking by himself.

He misses Dorian’s warmth pressed over and against him, misses the soft kisses Dorian entreats him to waking with. They are due back soon but Cullen’s bed is still empty and he misses his lover. He misses him enough to delay getting up, to instead curl over onto Dorian’s side of the bed and scent his lover’s pillow.

Too long apart it is fading, the scent of Dorian’s hair oils faint on the pillow as Cullen turns his face into it. He sprawls onto his back and lets one hand tease down his belly.

Dorian occasionally woke him with something other than kisses. Sometimes Cullen would wake already moaning and bucking into Dorian’s hand or mouth, already begging Doriam for release before his mind has grasped the waking world. Cullen closes his eyes and convinces himself it is Dorian’s hand.

His touch is rougher where Dorian’s hands are softer, fingers thicker where Dorian’s are long and slim. It is the best Cullen can do and instead he floods his mind with Dorian.

His touch, his kisses, his startled breaths of pleasure and the moans he makes when Cullen touches him just right. Cullen takes his cock in hand and tries to touch as Dorian does- ever the tease but so commanding. When they are like this, it is Dorian who leads and Cullen who chases after. He would touch Cullen firmly, remind him who he was dealing with, before gentleness took over and Cullen chased each not enough brush of skin.

Cullen’s legs shift on the bed, the sheet tangled between them wrestling with the motion as his spreads the slow build of slick from the tip of his cock down his shaft. Sunlight filters in from the hole in the roof and Cullen is struck with the memory of Dorian atop him in light like this. How his dark skin shifted and illuminated in the gold light- how beautiful he was slicked with sweat and lax with pleasure, Cullen’s name on his lips.

Cullen’s grip tightened and his hips bucked into his hand, gasping, “Dorian…” into the still air of the loft. He wants to tease and keep his pace slow. To torment himself as Dorian would until he was frantic with the need for release. It has been too long, however, and the longing for Dorian drives his hand faster like he might pull the man to him through sheer force of will.

He does not hear the door open, does not here the soft catch of breath- drowned out by his own breathy grunts and gasps. Careful hands and feet pull up the ladder and it is not until a voice shudders out breath that Cullen opens his eyes.

Dorian has returned, looking tired and worn but alive- alive and lustful, eyeing Cullen like a starving man eyes food. Cullen’s eyes crease at the corners and he whines, hips bucking hard as his being caught spurs him on even as he blushes. “Dorian…” He chokes.

“I am here.” Dorian’s voice is low and he does not approach Cullen, observing hungrily as Cullen goes to still his hand. “Do not stop on my account, amatus.” Dorian purrs.

Cullen obeys, twisting his hand just so at the tip to make himself bit his lower lip.

“Have you missed me, amatus?” Dorian asks.

“Yes, yes… Maker yes.” Cullen gasps out.

“Was it me you pictured?” The question is innocent enough but it does not bare asking, not when Cullen is so wholly consumed by the mage.

“Yes… wanted you… you weren’t here… the b-bed…” Cullen’s head tips up in a groan.

“It is so dreadfully empty when we both arent in it, isn’t it?” Dorian agrees. “So you closed your eyes and pictured me? What I might do if I was here with you…”

“Maker’s breath, yes.” Cullen arches his back a little, his other hand moving over his belly and chest, flicking at his nipples and moving up entirely to grip at his own hair. He wished Dorian would just give him what he wanted, would touch him and kiss him- he was half mad with need of it but this was the game now.

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes!”

“Then what’s stopping you?” Dorian asks.

Cullen heats under that gaze- dismissive and lustful in equal measure. Like Cullen is Dorian’s toy and while he knows the truth, the idea of that makes Cullen arch and cry out. He comes with a whining cry, hand tangled in the bedspread as the other jerks his cock and spills over his own belly. He keeps touching until his body shudders and his breath comes too sharp, stilling so that he might recover himself and catch his breath.

“That is what I call a welcome home.” Dorian muses, smiling delightedly down at Cullen on the bed as he shrugs his robes off and gently cleans Cullen’s belly with the corner of a bedsheet, kissing over the skin as he sits at Cullen’s side. His tongue laps up what the sheet misses and Cullen whines under him again, hands pulling at Dorian to draw him down into a proper kiss.

The taste of Cullen’s come lingers on Dorian’s lips, Cullen moaning into Dorian’s mouth as closes his arms around his lover finally returned to you.

“I missed you.” Cullen murmurs as they part.

“I gathered.” Dorian smirks.


	18. Cullrian+turning the other off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+turning the other off

“I have wanted to get you alone all day.” Dorian husks into Cullen’s ear, hissing as Cullen’s fingers drag through his hair and the Commander nips at his jaw.

“Oh?” Cullen hums with mild interest, the arm tight around Dorian’s waist drifting to cup Dorian’s rear. It is perhaps the sweetest groping Dorian has ever had and he would laugh if it wasn’t so typically Cullen that it made his heart ache. The touchy-feely emotions would have to wait, Dorian truly has been desperate to get Cullen to himself all day.

“I’ve thought of little else. Of what I might do to you if I could… of what you might do to me.” Dorian grips tighter across Cullen’s back as the gently grip on his rear clutches harder and Dorian is pressed flush against Cullen so that he can feel how his words are making Cullen react. “I found some circle robes you know, the southern circle kind.” Dorian arches as Cullen noses into his collar and leaves soft, hit kisses down his neck. “I thought I could be your naughty circle mage, and you could be my templar captor.”

Cullen stiffens in his arms and draws back with a frown. “Um…” He shifts and Dorian frowns back.

“Did I… go too far?”

“A little…” Cullen draws back a little further until their just loosely embracing and Dorian cringes.

“That sort of thing… it actually happens in Southern Circles, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, and not… consensually.” Cullen’s face was twisted in distaste and horrific secondhand guilt, blinking rapidly like he can shake whatever memories have gripped him free.

“Oh.” Dorian breathes.

“I d-didnt… I would never…” Cullen trails off but the urge to make Dorian aware is in his pleading eyes and Dorian nods like it was obvious.

“I never doubted.” Dorian says with a smile. The mood has been utterly killed however so Dorian gives him a soft kiss and draws away. “I am sorry. I would never have brought it up if I had known.”

“I know. It shouldn’t happen. It does- or it did- but it isn’t right… I should have… I should have done more…” Cullen rubs at his brow with past guilts and aches as Dorian tugs his hand away and pulls him to the door.

“You always do more than enough, amatus. Come on. Lets go and see if the cook has any more of those cakes you like, okay? Then I think we should see Varric about Wicked Grace tonight. Something tells me I’ll clear my debt if I can get you to promise to go.” Cullen is slow to respond but he lets Dorian guide him to the door, each step mirroring a mental one away from darker times and things Cullen cannot change. By the time they have made it down the steps Cullen is declaring he won’t ever attend Wicked Grace night again and Dorian is promising him every lewd act he can think of to change his mind.

Dorian remembers to steer clear of bringing up the circles for a while.


	19. Cullrian + being drenched whilst wearing white

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian + being drenched whilst wearing white

It should be a surprise that Dorian is good at this, but it really isn’t. Of course the mage is having the time of his life running circles around Cullen’s latest recruits like it was child’s play. Dorian certainly made it look like it was.

“Commander, he’s too…” A defeated, breathless recruit groans. 

“Amazing? Exceptional? Utterly gorgeous? Beyond compare?” Dorian cooes, winking at the fallen recruit to make him curse under his breath. Dorian laughs and twirls his staff into ready stance, beckoning another recruit closer. They all pale and step back, Dorian laughing at them mockingly before levelling an arrogant smirk at Cullen. “Do you dare, Commander?”

“Challenge the mighty Lord Dorian?” Cullen muses over it as his recruits rally and cheer him on. “I suppose I had better show them how it is done.”

“Oh, you can try, amatus.” Dorian purrs.

Cullen turns to his recruits and let his cloak fall from his shoulders. Because he was only supervising Cullen wasn’t wearing his armour, instead wearing one of Dorian’s shirts that pulled tight over Cullen’s chest. He didn’t seem overly concerned he had no armour as he lectured his recruits on speed and observing their enemy. 

“Do tell, amatus, what have you observed of me?” Dorian drawled, drawing Cullen’s attention back to him as he faced Dorian up the staircase, the recruits gathered at the bottom- a makeshift example of the distance needed to cross to get close to most mages. 

“That you like me in this shirt.” Cullen returned. The recruits wolf whistled their Commander and Dorian scoffed.

“Hardly note worthy.”

“It will be.” Cullen hefted his shield and practice sword as he took the first step up. 

Dorian let the comment slide in favour of gathering his magic in his hands, firing small bolts of lightning to Cullen’s feet. Cullen sped up his advance, not foolish enough to leap up the stairs as some of the recruits had but keep a fast single-step pace, dodging Dorian’s attacks gracefully. Dorian arcs the lightning instead now, watching it zing over the metal of Cullen’s shield and lance down his arm. It won’t wound but it hurts, Cullen’s muscles clenching as he grits his teeth and Dorian lets the lightning charge increase. Cullen is a big boy, he can take it.

Already Cullen is a third of the way up the stairs, further than a good deal of the recruits managed. Dorian is not so cruel as to inflict horrors on Cullen through his own fears- Maker knows the man has enough to make that avenue easy though- instead inciting his panic with a flash of skulls and purple haze. Adrenaline makes most men sloppy, but not Cullen. His strength was forged in torture and terror, it does nothing but darken his gaze with intent and Dorian decides to stop playing nice. Fire heats the shield in his hand and singes his hair, Dorian’s determination to win making him petulant. The wooden practice sword catches alight but rather than discard it Cullen swings it in a wide arc and extinguishes it

The lightning crashes down in a cage, pulling Cullen to a fixed point and paralysing him back. Or it should have. Teeth bared, Cullen advances still. Each step is a mammoth effort but Cullen manages it and Dorian is almost out of room. The steps between them are few but h isn’t out of tricks yet, gathering up magic to attack again when Cullen hurls his shield at Dorian.

On reflex, Dorian obliterates the metal shield into a melted puddle before him and glares at-

Oh.

Cullen is drenched. The sheer, satin shirt he had borrowed from Dorian is soaked in sweat and clings to every muscle and hard edge. His hair sticks to his brow and Dorian can count every breath by watching his chest flex through the material. His nipples are pebbled with the chill and Dorian wants to bite them, then nose his way down each dip of Cullen’s abs he can see outlined beautifully in white, wet satin.

The scorched practice sword taps under his chin. “Checkmate.” Cullen breathes. 

Dorian does not protest that this is most definitely cheating or that he can hardly train his soldiers to flash skin to beat mages. He swallows and lowers his staff. “Oh you are a delight, amatus.” He makes no attempts to hide how his eyes rove over Cullen’s body. 

“And advantage is still an advantage.” Cullen remarks calmly, chest still heaving and blush overtaking him now.

“I will get you back for this.”

“Will you?” Cullen presses his sword firmer to Dorian’s throat. “Mage?”

Dorian’s breath hitches and if not for the way the recruits break out into cheering at their Commander’s victory, Dorian is fairly certain they might have witnessed their Commander’s debauchery right there on the steps.


	20. Cullrian + Begging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian + Begging

“Oh, Commander!” Dorian cries out, ready to beg for more as Cullen presses him into the bed.

“Easy, recruit.” Cullen hisses into his ear, gloved hand tugging his hair and forcing his neck bared. “Wouldn’t want the whole barrack to hear you bending over for your commanding officer, now would you?” His hips shift and force his cock deeper, Dorian biting down on a whine as he arches back encouragingly. “Or maybe I could pass you around the camp? See what the other soldiers make of your talents…”

Dorian bites into the bedspread instead, to quieten the pleading moans and groaning loud as Cullen’s hips move in hard snapping thrusts. Introducing Cullen to roleplay is the best decision he ever made.


	21. Cullrian+"I'm frightened, Dorian."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+"I'm frightened, Dorian."

“You, frightened? Fierce lion of the Inquisition?” Dorian gives a soft laugh but there’s an edge to it that is sharp. “Come now, amatus, let us continue the game.”

Cullen frowns down at the chessboard, eyes distant. “I c-can’t… can’t remember… how did I get here? I was talking with the soldiers…”

Dorian swallows hard but forces himself to remain calm, not to comment on the trembling hands Cullen doesn’t seem to notice. “And then I met you for lunch and we retired to the gardens for a game.” He fills in, like Cullen’s blank spot is nothing, like it doesn’t mean anything.

Except Cullen’s been getting them more and more, Dorian filling in the blanks as they widen and Cullen’s distant looks get more frequent. Gray hair barely touches Cullen’s temple, he shouldn’t be this far along with the side effects. And there really is only one thing it could be.

One day, Cullen will look up and he won’t remember who Dorian is- lyrium poisoning snatching him from Dorian, and there isn’t a single thing he can do about it. He might kill the Inquisitor for convincing Cullen to keep taking it; for taking Cullen from him.


	22. Fenders+"And in the end, I'd do it all again. I think you're my best friend"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenders+"And in the end, I'd do it all again. I think you're my best friend"

"And in the end, I'd do it all again. I think you're my best friend"

And isn’t that the sad truth of it.

Abandoned by all he once called friends, tethered to an elf who spat nothing but blind hatred at him for years, Hawke unwilling to kill him but even more unwilling to ever look at him again, now stuck with the only person anyone could trust to guard a mage properly.

Anders’ hand reached out from the bars of the cage, rusted metal set in the stone of the cave still able to hold him in. Magebane tainted water keeps him docile, idle conversation keeps him content. Fenris starts to wonder when this became so… uncomfortable. Probably around the time Anders started smiling at him when he came to the cave. It had been Hawke’s idea- not make him the martyr, make him the insane hermit. Solitary had almost done it once, let it finish the job, he had said, but Fenris couldn’t leave him and someone had to bring the drugged food. Why he started to linger, he isn’t sure.

“I always thought you hated me, but you never abandoned me.” Anders whispers, soft words like sweet honey through those bars as he reaches so hopefully for Fenris, like any contact at all would make him so happy but he never complains that Fenris doesn’t give it. “I really would do it all again, just to know your kindness like this.”

The madness is setting in, Fenris thinks. “Hush, Anders.” He soothes. He can’t quite say which one of them the madness grips more.


	23. Cullrian+"I've been aching to see you helpless like this Amatus."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+"I've been aching to see you helpless like this Amatus."

“Unhand me, Venatori!” Cullen spits, wrestling the bonds that tie him down as dark skinned hands slide over him, nimble fingers working buckles undone and leaving no doubts as to where this depraved mage’s intentions lay.

“Oh, I think not, amatus.” The mage purrs. “I have wanted you since I spied your pretty face at the fall of Haven and now… now I think I shall have you.”

“No! Let me go! I will tear you apart!” Cullen spits furiously, kicking out but the mage was too fast.

“I am Dorian Pavus, of House Pavus of Minrathous- you haven’t the first idea what to do with me, let alone how to stop me.” Dorian grins wide, fear creeping into Cullen’s gaze as a hand slides along the band of his belt.

“Now let’s see what the Commander of the Inquisition does when he has no hope but to submit, shall we?” The glee in the mage’s voice slides ice cold into Cullen’s belly


	24. Cullrian; "I thought about asking you to marry me, but I never got the chance."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian; "I thought about asking you to marry me, but I never got the chance."

Cullen blinks at the words, panic catching his throat as he presses at Dorian’s side and tries to halt the red spilling between his fingers. “Ha, y-yeah, sure, keep joking Dorian. Just stay with me, okay? The healers will be here any second.” Cullen insists to himself. 

Dorian’s fingers wrap around his wrist, grip too loose and touch already unsteady. Red stains his teeth when he smiles. “Not joking, how dare you?” Dorian splutters what might have been a laugh but is wet and sickening in his throat now. “C-couldn’t just propose to the good chantry boy, though, could I? Had to… to do it right…” 

“Dorian, lie still, please…” Cullen begged, Dorian’s hands not the only ones shaking now. “Please, anyone! A healer! We need a healer!” He shouted, the battlefield empty but for the dead and dying now. His voice breaks on each note and he prays Dorian won’t be among their number.

“H-had to… ask your sister… f-for per…permission.” Dorian spluttered another laugh, wheezing this time as he reaches weak fingers up to brush Cullen’s cheek. “She asked me what took so long…” Dorian choked, breath uneven as he breathes, “C-Cullen, w-would… would y-you… m-ma…”

“Dorian?” Cullen’s voice is so soft, so quiet and terrified. “Dorian?!” He tries again, demanding Dorian stop this as the mage’s fingers slip from his face and Cullen’s hands slide through the cool, sticky mess of deep red that pools around them. “No, no, Dorian! Please, Dorian please!” The Inquisitor finds Cullen like that and later she tells him it took four men to drag him away from Dorian.


	25. Cullrian+"I'd love to dress you up in pearls. Gold. Silk. Anything to let them know you belong to me Cullen."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+"I'd love to dress you up in pearls. Gold. Silk. Anything to let them know you belong to me Cullen."

Cullen has had his doubts about this Tevinter Magister from the outset. He had been so singularly focused on winning Cullen’s favour that the Commander had been sure it was with an ulterior motive. He hadn’t been too far wrong, except where Cullen had been anticipating political gain or some form of sway within the Inquisition, he had been wrong, Dorian had simply wanted him.

Dorian wanted him wholly; a possessive, spoiled mage who pushed that there was a difference between magister and mage in Tevinter- who wanted everyone to know that Cullen was his in every way, shape and form.

“I think they might already know…” Cullen says softly, fingers tracing over the covetous marks Dorian always gifted him with- impossible to hide, not that Cullen tried all that hard.

“I would have every doubt gone.” Dorian hisses, the press of hungry fingers over his hip more intense than Cullen had expected when Dorian’s dark eyes promise every treasure and more, should Cullen want them. “Let them all know you are mine and you are without want for anything.”

“Let them envy what you have, you mean.” Cullen remarks drily, shaking his head when Dorian inclines his head like that was obvious.


	26. Cullrian+it was definitely bigger than the last one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+it was definitely bigger than the last one.

He hadn't really got to look at it properly, but it was definitely bigger than the last one. 

Cullen couldn’t be sure until he was up close and personal with it, the thick shaft definitely wider than any he was familiar with.

He opened his mouth to ask permission, but one look at Dorian’s expectant face and he knew permission wasn’t required.

He took the weight of it in one hand and letting the feel of it become more familiar as Dorian hummed approvingly.

“Enjoying yourself?” Dorian asked with a smirk.

“It’s a much better staff than you last one.” He handed the mage back his staff with an approving smile.


	27. Cullrian+"I don't think I've ever seen you turn a more delicious shade of red Cullen."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+"I don't think I've ever seen you turn a more delicious shade of red Cullen."

Cullen tossed his head, sweat beading on his brow as his whole body trembled slightly and didn’t seem inclined to stop. “N-not g-gonna… n-not g-gonna w-work… D-Dorian!”

Dorian flexed his fingers just a little, making Cullen whine where four of Dorian’s fingers splayed him open. “Oh, it will, amatus.” He turned his hand just a fraction, slick up to the elbow in oil- not that he intended to go that far. 

“I-it w-won’t!” Cullen insisted, a keening cry between every word as Dorian gently pushed and eased off, pushed and eased off, rotating this way and that- Cullen felt entirely too bare and certain this wouldn’t work no matter what the mage said he had done before.

Dorian chewed his lip in excitement, seeing as Cullen relaxed just that little bit more and tucking his thumb between his fingers to coax him along, letting Cullen’s whining cry mark the moment as his knuckles breached Cullen entirely.

He was fairly sure all of Skyhold heard that moment.


	28. Cullrian+"Dorian, anybody could see!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+"Dorian, anybody could see!"

Dorian does not respond, his mouth is more than a little occupied as he works on getting as much of Cullen’s cock into his mouth as possible.

It had been no great surprise that Cullen worked late in the war room, shuffling little figures about and calculating the best angles of attack, never stopping and resting like he should.

It hadn’t been difficult to work out when to sneak into the room and hide under the desk. What was difficult was getting Cullen’s belt off without him shrieking in surprise.

Dorian hums around the flesh in his mouth, waiting for further complaint until he feels gloved fingers snake into his hair.

‘Checkmate, Commander.’ He thinks.


	29. Cullrian+Spanking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+Spanking

Cullen is shaking and Dorian can see his fingers clutched tight in the bedsheets. He is biting down on the soft little whimpers he is making but each strike has torn free the most delicious, wanton cries that Dorian couldn’t possibly have hoped for. “That’s only three, Commander. Do you think you can handle any more?” Dorian hasn’t held back and even three strikes have Cullen’s pale skin flushed red over his rear, Dorian’s dark fingers dragging over the skin and making Cullen whine.

“Yes, yes, Dorian…” Cullen presses back into his hand and Dorian brings down his other hand on Cullen’s other cheek, eyes wide with delight as Cullen’s back arches. 

“Look at you, you’re wild…” Dorian praises, his hand pulling back to land hard again. Cullen reacts so beautifully that Dorian is transfixed. This secret is his, the way Cullen melts under a firm, hard slap. He will treasure it and use it to take Cullen apart but only at his hands. It is his gift that this man has given him and Dorian is nothing if not selfish and very appreciative with gifts. And this is a very fine gift, he thinks as he strikes and Cullen cries out again.


	30. Cullrian+Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+Captured

”C-Cullen…” Dorian’s voice is weak- exhausted? Hurt?! Shouldn’t have killed them so fast, should have made them suffer- but it reaches Cullen and he is at the cell door in a flash.

“Gimme two seconds, Curly, I’ll have that open in a-” Varric is cut off as Cullen cracks his sword down hard on the chain and lock around the rusted bars. It clatters to the floor under the strike and Cullen wrenches the door open, the metal shrieking in protest. “Well, okay then.” Varric stares as Cullen falls to one knee in front of Dorian.

A gloved hand cups Dorian’s face, bruised where they’ve struck him- always with the smart comments and backtalk, couldn’t just keep your head down, couldn’t just be safe- Dorian offers him a smile that becomes a wince as his swollen eye crinkles and he pulls against his bonds. He’s weak, and ropes wouldn’t normally hold him. “Magebane.” Cullen snarls, kicking at the drugged cup of water he sees near Dorian’s feet. “Come here, my love.” Dorian has fought his bonds and they’ve bitten into his skin, blood stained bracelets around his wrists that Cullen kisses in turn before unbinding Dorian’s feet as well.

“My leg…” Dorian slurs, movements weak and sluggish. Cullen takes stock of the awkward angle Dorian’s leg is resting. They’ve broken his leg. And left him like this. Rage burns hot and blinding in Cullen before he pushes it down and cups Dorian’s face again. He kisses him, so soft and so careful not to hurt him more.

“I will get you out of here, Dorian. You’re safe.” Cullen promises, strapping his sword into his sheath before bending down to ease Dorian into his arms. An arm under his legs, another under his back, Cullen lifts Dorian up and curls him protectively to his chest.

“Knew you’d come…” Dorian mumbles against his neck.

“Of course I would.” Cullen kisses the top of Dorian’s head and turns to face their companions who are staring in surprise. Cassandra, even with her bloodied nose, can’t seem to settle between shock or flustered interest, the Inquisitor smirking approvingly despite his own injuries as he stands close to guard against Cullen’s now inability to fight. Varric hefts Bianca and whistles.

“So… you and Sparkler, huh?”

“Later, Varric.” Cullen grunts, but Dorian wearily and belatedly mumbles, “My hero…” and Cullen flushes despite the grim set of his face.


	31. MTrevelyan/Dorian + bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MTrevelyan/Dorian + bath

“Is that… lilac?” Dorian asked hopefully as the Inquisitor poured the vial of bath oils into the steaming water. Trevelyan was already naked and Dorian had taken entirely too long admiring the view before stripping his own clothes, but in his defence his amatus cut a fine figure- framed in the tall windows against the Frostback Mountains without any thought for just how wonderful he looked.

“I thought we deserved a little spoiling.” Trevelyan gave him that quirked little smile, the almost shy offering of it making Dorian’s chest do all sorts of ridiculously adoring things he would never dare voice. He’d sound like one of Cassandra’s awful novels. Instead he moved to the bath as Trevelyan slowly sank into it with a soft moan of appreciation. “This bath is big enough for two.” The inquisitor offers after a moment.

“Oh, I had noticed. I just wanted to look for a moment.” But he had looked his fill and it was much nicer to sink into the water and settle his back against Trevelyan’s front, two broad arms wrapping around him and holding him gently. Dorian would gladly run away from Tevinter and home and family a thousand times for this, no matter his good intentions- this made it worth it.


	32. cullrian, BUSTED

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cullrian, BUSTED

“T-this i-isn’t… this isn’t what it looks like!” Cullen stammered at the four wide-eyed faces in his doorway. Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine and the Inquisitor were all frozen in shock as they took in the unmistakeable sight.

“Really? Really?!” Dorian snapped, levering himself up on his elbows and jostled his cock still very firmly settled in Cullen, the Commander gasping at the motion. “You’re riding my cock with both of us laid out on your desk and you think you can talk your way out of it?!”

“M-Maker, Dorian-” Cullen tried to hold him still but the mage was annoyed now.

“Don’t you ‘Maker’ me.” Dorian’s hands settled on Cullen’s hips and he bucked up to make Cullen throw his head back with a cry. Dorian flung one hand out, slamming the door shut with a burst of ice magic which sealed the door shut in hard jagged crystals of ice. “Do tell, Cullen.” Dorian snapped, hips rocking up into Cullen as the older man clung to Dorian’s chest and moaned with each thrust. “How would you talk your way out of this one?” Cullen’s response was lost to cries of pleasure as Dorian maintained his relentless thrusting. “I didn’t think so.”


	33. Cullrian+Cullen is insecure about the state of his quarters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+Cullen is insecure about the state of his quarters

“Oh for the- Cullen, there is a hole in your ceiling!”

Cullen coughs and rubs his neck awkwardly. “Um. Yes.”

“Don’t just ‘yes’ me, Cullen, it’s letting water in! You’re joking with me, this is a quaint Fereldan joke. You don’t actually sleep here!” Dorian is moving around Cullen’s loft room with increasing horror, his face twisting further at everything he finds because of course it doesn’t meet his standards. “Be still my heart- you do!” Dorian looked at the rumpled, unmade bed and shook his head.

“I-I,um… my apologies…” Cullen offers.

Dorian turns and looks at Cullen curiously. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes? I know it’s not… it’s not to your standards.” Cullen had attempted to tidy the night before but he hadn’t had time to even straighten his bed before he went to training this morning. Besides, there wasn’t much to tidy aside from broken beams and fallen roof tiles he had swept into a corner. He had a stack of books, his armour and cleaning materials, his whetstone for his sword, and that was it. It was all he needed to do his job. But under the scrutiny of Dorian’s gaze- a man who exuded finer living and good taste as if it were simply obvious- he felt painfully inadequate. Again. “I should not have brought you here.” Cullen says, and now he starts to flush as embarrassment shifts to shame. 

“Cullen-”

“It’s alright, Dorian, we can… why don’t we go and play another game of chess?”

“If I have to play one more game of chess with you, wondering what you’ll look like when I suck your cock, I think I’ll go mad.” Dorian remarks dryly.

Cullen trips while standing still, his breath choked out in a huff. “M-Maker’s breath…”

“Oh yes, something like that I hope.” Dorian advances on Cullen like he is stalking prey, catching Cullen’s collar when the man steps back and nears the edge of the platform. “Easy there, amatus.” He purrs.

“L-look, I know this i-isn’t… it’s not. It’s not what you deserve.” Cullen pushes Dorian’s shoulders gently to get some space between them, unable to think clearly when Dorian is in his space like that. “You don’t have to lower your standards for my sake. We can just…” Cullen presses his fingers to his brow and winces. “Maybe I can make arrangements? I d-don’t really… this isn’t something… I do often.” He cringes.

“Well,” Dorian says with a fond smile tugging at his mouth. “I had noticed. I am sure rumours would have gotten out if the good Commander made a practice of taking Tevinter mages to his bed.” He shakes his head and then sobers slightly at just how uncomfortable Cullen is. “Cullen, have I… have I overstepped? I didn’t mean to insult your… situation, so gravely. It’s just, well…” He gestures to the gaping hole in the roof again.

“Yes. You’re right. I am sorry.” Cullen turns to head to the ladder again and Dorian catches his collar, fingers curling into the back of his cloak, and yanks him back. Cullen makes a strangled cry of surprise as Dorian winds his arms around Cullen’s waist.

“Stop apologising.”

“Sorry.”

“Cullen.”

“Right, so-”

“Cullen.” Dorian’s teeth graze Cullen’s ear and the Commander gulps. “Get undressed, get on the bed, and stop saying sorry.”

“Y-yes, ser.” Cullen’s eyes go wide and he stammers, “I m-mean, oh M-Maker.”

“‘Ser’? I like that.” Dorian chuckles, slowly undoing his many belts and easing his clothes off into a neat pile as Cullen’s shaky fingers undo his armour. He gets down to his trousers before he hesitates again and Dorian has to say, an older man fidgeting that self-consciously when there is nothing to be self-conscious about? It’s adorable. “I’d let you have me on the barn floor if it was the only option.” Dorian offers, in the wake of Cullen’s indecisive silence. “I’d prefer we didn’t, at least… maybe not the floor. But it truly doesn’t matter to me.” He steps towards Cullen, unashamed in his nakedness and preening as Cullen eyes him. “What matters is that you could catch your death of cold up here, and really that hole should be repaired.”

Cullen shakes his head. “It’s a waste of resources. The draft isn’t that bad.”

“Well it had better not be if I am to be spending the night.” Dorian rests his hands over Cullen’s chest and smiles as Cullen’s arms immediately come up to hold him. “I am sure we can think of some way to keep warm…”

“Oh?” Cullen flushes. “Oh!” He smirks and Dorian does his level best not to laugh at him, instead leaning in to kiss him.


	34. Cullrian, litany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian, litany

“I love you.” Cullen says, lips tracing the words over Dorian’s belly.

Dorian shifts under him and it isn’t quite squirming, Dorian is far too controlled for that, but it’s close. “So you’ve said.” He huffs. Cullen has no idea why his saying those words seems to fluster and undo Dorian so much. The thought has occurred to him that maybe… maybe no one has said them to him. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” Cullen says it between each kiss, tracing patterns into Dorian’s skin with his mouth and pressing each adoring word into him so that he might always know it. They’re already sated, lying curled into bed with Dorian sleepily letting Cullen fawn over him- like the mage has an issue with being worshiped. “I love you, I love you-”

“Just s-stop!” Dorian cries. His voice is loud and cuts through the quiet peace they had as Cullen immediately draws back to cup Dorian’s face worriedly.

“What is it?”

“You won’t stop saying it; over and over! Why?!” Dorian is caught somewhere between angry and hurt. There is doubt and fear in every word, Cullen wondering if maybe this he is the first person to declare himself so openly. Or maybe he’s just the first to say it and mean it but Dorian is scared to trust it.

“Because it’s how I feel.” Cullen gives Dorian a soft smile, thumbing over his cheek and kissing Dorian softly. “I love you.”

“Idiot.” Dorian scoffs.

“I love you.” Cullen replies.


	35. Adoribull - skinny dipping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adoribull - skinny dipping

“I feel seasick already.” Dorian moaned, clutching at his belly dramatically as Bull stood already naked at the lapping shore. Dorian had grudgingly shuck a few bits of clothing but it was- as ever in the south- bitterly cold and he regretted it deeply. He dreaded to think what the water would feel like. “Can’t we just frolic on the sand?”

Bull laughed, a loud bark of amusement as he stepped further back and then inhaled sharply. “Fuck, that’s cold!”

“Yes, well, on that note-” Dorian turned to leave when Bull charged him. A hot mouth pressed to his, making him bend back to accommodate the hungry kiss as hands pulled at his clothes. He curled into Bull’s heat as he was stripped bare, utterly unprepared as the qunari hefted him up and over his shoulder. “Put me down!”

“Sure thing, Vint. Just riiiiight over here.” Bull strode to the water, stepping into it again and patting Dorian’s rear with a fondness before dropping him, unceremoniously, into the freezing sea.


	36. Cullrian - lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian - lost

Cullen had been calling for days; shouting, whispering, praying, begging and pleading on bended knee at Dorian’s bedside. The mage had simply refused to wake, coming back from a brief venture out with a large bruise on his head. It had just been a knock, Dorian had been fine that night. Cullen had thought nothing of it. The longer he remained under the worse it looked, whether he was caught in the fade or his mind had simply sustained greater damage than anyone could repair.

“Please, Dorian, please.” Cullen whispered, his hands clasped over Dorian’s still ones as he peppered kisses to Dorian’s fingertips and knuckles, traced every inch of the smooth, soft skin of each finger and along his palm. Dorian is so young, so young for the assured manner he strides around with. ‘It’s just a bump, Cullen. I’m fine, Cullen. Don’t worry, Cullen. Stop your fussing.’ He had said. “Please, come back to me, don’t leave me. I dont think I-I… I don’t… Maker, please, Dorian…” Cullen’s voice broke and he hushed his sobs into Dorian’s wrist.

Dorian’s fingers twitch in his and Cullen freezes. “C-Cullen?” It’s slurred beyond recognition but it’s Dorian’s voice. Cullen collapsed over the bed as he pressed shaking, frantic hands to Dorian’s face in relief.

“It’s me, oh Maker, it’s me. I’m here. Easy, just lie still. I’m here.” He breathes, letting Dorian weakly nuzzle into his hands and holding on tight. He might never let go again.


	37. Cullrian - expensive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian - expensive

“These were expensive.” Dorian looks down at the new robes he has carefully and excitedly unwrapped, the gift from Cullen a pleasant surprise.

“You are a man of taste.” Cullen teases.

“You shouldn’t have.” Dorian shifts, running his hands over the heavy fabric. These will keep him warm but they’re so fashionable Dorian knows he had help. The style isn’t Orlesian or Fereldan; it’s most definitely Tevinter. There’s only one other Vint around skyhold and Dorian would really have liked to see Cullen ask Krem’s advice on fashion.

“… you… you don’t like them?” The disappointment would make puppies weep and Dorian sighs.

“I love them. It just seems… wasteful, what with the war and the end of the world.”

Cullen hums thoughtfully. “They’re practical, you know.”

“Of course they are, it’s a gift from you.” Dorian smiles, tracing the Fennec Fur and musing, “I suppose they odd indulgence is good for the soul…”

“You should try them on.” The sad puppy look is gone now, a hungry, excited anticipation taking it’s place. Dorian smirks, of course the practicality couldn’t hide that these were most definitely going to fit Dorian very snugly. Cullen could be devious when he wanted to be, it seemed.


	38. Cullrian - betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian - betrayal

It isn’t him, it isn’t him, Dorian insists over in his mind. It has to be a trick, has to be. Still, he calls out, “Cullen! Stop this madness!” The Commander’s red hazed gaze snaps to his and he is feral. He is madness and rage and power incarnate. The lyrium sings through him and it burns with taint and darkness. It is puppeting Cullen to Corypheus’ will. 

The sound that tears free from Cullen’s throat is not human, not any more. Dorian barely manages to raise his staff- no magic even to call, he wouldn’t dream of it- but the reinforced staff does nothing to halt Cullen’s sword. It shatters in his hands, splitting and falling uselessly as Cullen’s sword drives into him and he chokes. Blood bubbles up his throat and he looks down to see the sword he is impaled on, looking then to the man wielding it. There is nothing of the man he knew- the man he loved- in Cullen’s gaze. Only hunger and madness.

“A-amatus…” Dorian gurgles, his blood spilling over his lips as he reaches shaky fingers for Cullen’s face. He bears witness as Corypheus relaxes his hold just enough, just so Cullen can see what he has done. The last thing Dorian sees is the heartbreaking grief, sees it tear Cullen apart, and he can’t even tell Cullen it’s okay; Dorian forgives him.


	39. Cullrian - cosy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian - cosy

“Give it back.” Cullen held out his hand, still cutting an impressively intimidating figure with all his armour exposed. “You don’t even like it! You said it was a ratty old rag you wouldn’t scrub the floors with.”

Dorian scoffed and snuggled down deeper into the collar of the familiar cloak he had ‘liberated’ from Cullen’s chair that morning. “I wouldn’t scrub the floors in general.” He sniffed, as if that was answer enough as to why he must certainly was entitled to claim Cullen’s cloak for his own. “Besides. It smells like you. And you won’t miss it with all the running around and training you do.” Dorian curled his fingers around the edge of the cloak tighter, scowling at the book in his lap.

Cullen lowered his hand, eyebrows high in surprise. “It… it smells like… oh.” He watched as Dorian made an irritated noise and turned a page huffily. “Well then. When you put it like that. You should keep it for now. But I need something in return.” Cullen stepped closer to stand over Dorian.

“I don’t have any-”

Cullen leaned in and kissed Dorian, chaste but warm and so very welcome. “Then I’ll take that.” He smiled at Dorian’s surprise.


	40. Cullrian + kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian + kids

“…and all around her the statues rose up, big terrifying moving statues that towered over her- but the Champion was not afraid.” Cullen leaned over in his seat, gesturing with his hands to the group of chubby-cheeked faces watching him in rapt attention. Dorian watched from the doorway with a bemused smile, growing wider as Cullen’s eyes meet his and the Commander flushed. He had heard Cullen got roped into watching some of the orphaned children that had arrived but he hadn’t quite believed it.

“And next, ser? What did the Champion do next?” A little round hand grasped at Cullen’s cloak and tugged eagerly. Cullen seemed to shrug the embarrassment off easily when faced with that adoring gaze, slipping back into his soft voice and finishing his tale.

“The Champion knew the power came from the Kight-Commander’s evil sword and she struck the Knight-Commander down. The statues all broke and came apart, the Knight-Commander as well falling with them. The Champion stood triumphant and had saved Kirkwall.” Dorian raised an eyebrow at the highly edited, highly simplified and inaccurate tale but the children seemed pleased. Dorian wondered if perhaps Cullen might want to keep one of them. Maybe.


	41. Fenders + marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenders + marriage

“And where is Anders now?” The Inquisitor leaned over Varric’s table as curiosity poured into every word. Varric was used to that sort of fascinated interest in Hawke but the Inquisitor seemed to want to know everything about Hawke’s companions as well. It made sense, what with the Inquisitor’s own rag-tag group of companions.

“Last I heard, trying to get married.” At the Inquisitor’s surprised, intrigued noise Varric sniggered. “I know right? The world’s gone to hell and he’s been on the run since this all began but he is going to get married. I got the invitation this morning, though I’m not sure I’ll risk their safety like that. I’m sure the Seeker would love to get her hands on Blondie.”

“Who is he marrying?”

“Oh you’ll love this; Broody.”

“Fenris?! But…! You wrote-”

“And I wasn’t lying. I can’t say they’re a bad couple either.” Varric mused. “I sent Hawke off with a gift for them both, no way she was going to miss their wedding. I have her and Rivaini writing it all down for me.”

“…would you turn it into a book?”

Varric laughed. “Would you read it?” The Inquisitor nodded excitedly. “Well, maybe I’ll let you read what they send me then.” Two arms wind around Varric and he laughs again, “Easy, don’t let Bianca see.”


	42. Cullrian - Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian - Death

“Where is he?” Cullen demands but none of the returning party will meet his gaze; hunched shoulders and downward looks as even the Inquisitor struggles to look at him.

A cart is pulled into the courtyard behind them, a bloodstained sheet covering a body on it as it’s clunky wheels roll to a stop and Cullen’s breath feels like ice in his lungs. No. This isn’t true. Under that sheet is some foul red templar they are going to dissect or something equal foul that Dagna will delight at. It isn’t… it doesn’t mean…

Cole’s hand rests gently in his, a cold press of skin and colder press of metal. He turns his palm over and Cullen sees his lucky coin resting in his glove, rust red smears of dried blood in it’s grooves and edges. Cullen does not feel his knees hit the floor but they do.


	43. Cullrian+Loss of Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+Loss of Control

It isn’t like Dorian hasn’t felt passion before, as hurried and brief as it had been. His sort of proclivities hardly lend themselves to drawn out indulgences in Tevinter. Still, he hardly call what Cullen is doing to him anything new.

But it is. Maker, it is.

There’s auch rapt attention in Cullen’s gaze, such adoring want that Dorian doesn’t want to hold back. He doesn’t want to muffle himself for whenever he deems it appropriate to reward his partner’s attentions, because this is Cullen and Cullen is taking him apart with studious determination and Dorian’s letting him.

Dorian’s never let anyone get this close before, knew it would be foolish and unwise, but Cullen has and Dorian’s greedy for it.

Two fingers move in him and Dorian’s breath shudders, his back arching up pleadingly for more. He is so wanton, so uncontrolled and it terrifies him. Control is what Dorian excels at, he wouldn’t have survivied back home if he couldn’t deny himseld the things he wanted most and make it look easy. Lying under Cullen like this, he knows he’s never going to find that control again. Not about this, not about Cullen.

“C-Cullen-!” His voice sounds unrecognisable to his own ears, thin and breathy, so very desperate.

Cullen’s fingers are thrusting so slow and carefully, the man himself pressing more over Dorian and shushing his whines with his lips against Dorian’s mouth. They aren’t kissing but it’s somehow more intimate. Their breath mingles, Dorian’s gasps and Cullen’s soothing whispers.

A third finger shatters the maddening hush, Dorian moaning low and drawn out as his legs spread for more. More of Cullen, more of this. He’s sure he’s never felt this precious in another man’s arms, never this… the word eludes him but Dorian knows it in his heart Cullen’s fingers thrust faster. Not much faster but its a firm pace now that has him keening.

Dorian is sure if he saw himself in this moment he would think himself a spectacle. A whore with more to gain could not match the scene is making now, writhing at every touch and his words nonsensical but frantic as he repeats Cullen’s name.

There’s the lingering fear that Cullen might ignore him tomorrow. Might have gotten what he wanted and be done. They’ve been dancing around this so long that Dorian is sure he won’t but Tevinter’s prejudices cling to him and that is perhaps why in turn he clings to Cullen. A hot mouth kisses over his neck and Dorian arches like a puppy into each one. It isn’t, Dorian knows it isn’t why he is like this with Cullen.

He’s never wanted anyone like he wants Cullen.

“Cullen! Please!” Even to his ears he sounds brokem and entirely to needy, he’d berate himself had he the mind for it.

“Anything, Dorian.” It is a little gratifying to hear the hoarse crack of Cullen’s voice, not the only one unaffected by whatever this is. Dorian knows what this is. He won’t dare name it, but he knows.

Words fail Dorian but he doesn’t need them, Cullen’s fingers slipping free with a choked groan from Dorian. But then Cullen’s cock presses against him and Dorian is like a man struck by lightning.

The slow slide of Cullen’s cock matches the curve of Dorian’s back as it bows, his fingers dragging red lines across Cullen’s scarred back. His voice is a strangled cry of ‘yes’ and he can scarce catch his breath, Cullen’s mouth finding his when their hips press flush.

All of Skyhold will know of this tomorow, the volume Dorian reaches assures it. What should be the hurried part now is delciously, insanely slow. Dorian should have known with Cullen, this was never going to be so simple. At first its just a deep, slow rock of his hips that Dorian gasps with each one. His heels dig into Cullen’s back and he urges Cullen on but the man is like stone, immovable and unswayed. He takes little even when Dorian pleadingly offers more, he takes no more than enough to make Dorian break.

The pace picks up, of course it does. Cullen’s iron will is only so strong and when he thrusts full and and hard into Dorian, the mage screams out. What he might have muffled to a moan of pleasure is a garbled prayer to the Maker as Cullen moves in him and Dorian’s cock slides against Cullen’s belly, his fingers pulling and grabbing at Cullen’s back, feet crossing and pulling the man in.

Not once does Cullen’s gaze shift from that all-consuming adoration and Dorian will deny vehemently that wetness tugs at his eyes as they spiral higher.

This is what his father had assured him could not be found between two men, that he would never find.

Dorian had half convinced himself it was true, all past encounters promising him again and again that Dorian would only ever be left with a broken heart if he did not guard himself.

It is only now he can see how Cullen has gently removed all those careful walls, so slowly eased his defences that it is only hearing his own wanton cries that he sees it fully. He is lost to this man now, a Fereldan ex-templar who can’t refer to sex without blushing.

“Cullen!” Dorian sobs as he comes, Cullen’s hand barely closing around Dorian’s cock before the mage comes and Cullen hisses at the tight clutch of Dorian’s body as the man’s back snaps up and he comes like he’s dying. He isn’t crying, not like that. The relief, the need, the… Dorian can feel it all and it hurts in its enormity. Its a crushing sense of feelings he cannot escape and the feat that they will be his downfall.

Cullen’s body closes around him, arms gathering Dorian close and no less adoring as he chases his own release. Dorian’s ears ring with the whispered, tortured gasp of his name from Cullen’s lips- so quiet by comparison but Dorian feels its impact like a punch to the chest, moaning with Cullen and holding him tight.

“Amatus…” Dorian breathes, the word slipping free unbidden and Dorian knows its truth as Cullen handles him so gently. He has lost himself to this man.


	44. Cullrian+Virgin Dorian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+Virgin Dorian

Courting Dorian has been nothing short of exciting. Cullen can add a thousand other words to that- interesting, dramatic, memorable, endearing- but overall he can honestly say he has never felt this way about another person before.

It’s been surprisingly chaste as well.

Not that Cullen has ever been the sort to drag people off for a thorough ravishing, he’s partaken before but he’s rarely the initiator. As deviant as they’ve gone has been fevered kisses between bookcases that leave them both disheveled and giddy. He had thought Dorian, for all his flirting and filthy innuendo, would want more.

Perhaps he discredits Dorian too much. This isn’t simple fun for either of them, as much as they have pursued a relationship slowly it was clesr to both of them that it is a relationship they wanted- not just a few good romps. That had been a surprise as well, when it had been Dorian who insisted, somewhat shyly, that he wanted this to be something more. Something serious.

They’re curled up, Dorian against his chest and scowling at an old book while Cullen watches the stars through the ceiling, when Cullen decides to voice his thoughts.

“You know, I’ve been thinking-”

Whatever annoyance Dorian has with his book seeps into his response, “Careful, Cullen, I understand that’s a dangerous past time with you Fereldans.”

“Right.” Cullen scoffs. “Anyway. I just thought I’d say… you don’t have to hold back on my account.”

“I’m sorry? Hold back what, darling?” The book is closed now, cast aside in favour of resting his chin on folded hands over Cullen’s chest.

“Y-you know. I’m not a blushing chantry maiden, like everyone seems to think. I’ve been with men before. Alright, a man. Still.” Cullen cups Dorian’s face and he smiles softly. “I want to be with you, I wouldn’t have chased after you if I didn’t want everything. I-I… I want this.” He says, voice a little shaky in his earnest words but he holds Dorian’s gaze to prove he means it.

Dorian regards him a moment, something hesitant and guarded on his face, and Cullen thinks he doubts his word until Dorian speaks. “I know you do.”

“Oh.” Cullen blinks. He had thought Dorian simple awaited some sort of word that Cullen was ready. If not that, then what? “Do you… do you not want that?” He bites his lip, the idea that their’s might simply be a platonic romance of convenience, Cullen not what Dorian wants but someone he’ll settle with for company. “I-it… I mean, I-I… I had hoped. But if… if you don’t…” Cullen trails off and Dorian can feel the way his heartbeat has picked up, hammering under Dorian’s palms in hurt and pain.

“It isn’t you, amatus.” Dorian sighs, now cupping Cullen’s face as the commander had held him. He lets go as he sits up and turns his face, fidgeting. “I want you immensely. So much it frightens me some times.”

Cullen sits up as well, the warmth of Dorian’s weight on his chest leeched from him by the cold in the room. Even the sleeping clothes they wear don’t ease it, not with the how uncertain Dorian looks and how worried it makes Cullen. “Then… what is it?”

Dorian’s fingers reach for his moustache, a nervous habit for the rare times he is caught unawares or feels uncertain. “I, well… how much experience are you under the impression I have had?” Dorian asks slowly.

Cullen rubs at his neck and ducks his head. “Oh, that… I suppose… enough to make me self-conscious, I am sure.” He trails off.

Dorian gives a deep sigh, bracing himself as he says, “You would be incorrect. I have had exactly none. No experience whatsoever.” He is tensed, shame and nervousness in his frame as Cullen’s eyes widen.

“B-but…! Dorian, are you… is this a joke? I thought relationships were new to you but I’m talking about… physical intimacy.”

Dorian shoots him a scowl and scoots a little further away as he folds his arms. “I am well aware what we are discussing, thank you very much, Cullen.”

“Dorian, look at you!” Cullen blurts. “Forgive me if I am surprised you haven’t chosen your pick of any man you desired.”

Dorian rolls his eyes. “It’s like no one listens when I speak of how very, very ‘not okay’ my preferences are in Tevinter. Cullen, my father wanted to…" Dorian’s throat closes at the jagged edges of a memory still not easy to recall. “All because of that one thing. Do you think it was only because I wouldn’t marry a woman? A pariah is the nicest thing I would have been if people found out, let me assure you.” He spits out, arms still crossed but now holding, fingers tight, biting into his skin.

Cullen wants to reach out but Dorian is maintaining his distance so he does not think it would be welcome yet. “I… I did not mean to belittle what you suffered, I just… I struggle thinking of a place where love, no matter it’s form, is so cruelly torn down.”

Dorian makes an annoyed sound but his defensiveness eases a little. “You sound like one of Cassandra’s ridiculous, driveling, romance novels.”

Cullen flushes because he most certainly has no idea what Dorian is talking about and does not trade the volumes eagerly with Cassandra when she gets another. “L-look, all I mean to say is… it doesn’t matter.” Dorian’s eyebrows narrow and Cullen hurries onwards. “Not that! Of course it matters that you aren’t free to love who you choose in Tevinter. A lot! Only that… the other thing. That you haven’t… that. It doesn’t matter.”

"Actually, it matters rather a lot. To me, anyway.” Dorian shifts uncomfortably. “I hate to say it but… I’ve spent a long time wondering. That I finally have someone I love and can love freely… I want to. I do, believe me.” They both laugh at that, breathless and giddy at the admission and the thoughts it brings. “It’s just…” Dorian adds after a moment.

“Dorian…” Cullen moves now, across the bed and cupping Dorian’s face as he holds back from simply sweeping Dorian into his embrace again. He lets Dorian bridge the final gap, opening his arms and squeezing him reassuringly. “I told you I was ready. Now we wait for you to be ready. No pressure, no obligation.”

Dorian seems to search his face for a moment, and Cullen isn’t sure if he’s looking for deception or is simply disbelieving, but whatever he finds makes him misty eyed and sag in Cullen’s arms. “Oh stop that.” He smacks Cullen’s arm lightly, barely more than a brush of skin. “See this is why I didn’t want to tell you. Now I’m the blushing virgin maiden to your strapping chantry boy in some sort of awful tale even Varric wouldn’t write.”

Cullen grins. “Do I get to sweep you off your feet now?”

Dorian wrestles out his hold again. “Don’t you dare, you brute.”

Just like that, the tension is gone. Dorian is back to flirting outrageously, making a game of pinching Cullen’s bum at the least convenient moment and generally giving the impression that not only is he a consummate lover but that he is tapping Cullen. Frequently.

Cullen doesn’t ever think to correct the notion, happy with things exactly they way they are and it isn’t anyone else’s business anyway.

Still the first time Dorian breathlessly ask if he’ll use his mouth on him, Cullen goes to his knees so fast he dents his armour.


	45. Cullrian. Cullen is a virgin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian. Cullen is a virgin

“Maker’s breath, I can’t take any more!” Cullen whines, fingers grasping at Dorian’s back in contradiction to his words. His legs shake where they bracket Dorian’s waist, restless as Dorian grants Cullen a moment to breathe. They are both heaving for breath, slicked with sweat and cum and oil.

“Of course you can.” Dorian rolls his hips and Cullen, having come more times this evening than he remembers he had even in his adolescence, whines again- the most strained, high pitched sound that a Commander of the Inquisition should never make. “I’ve only come twice and I’ve plenty more to share with you.”

“What more is there?!” Cullen protests petulantly, neck arched back as he writhes under the slow, incessant roll of Dorian’s hips. The sounds won’t stop now, breathy little gasps that have him shaking harder.

“Positions, acts, props…” Dorian’s tongue snakes up his exposed throat, enjoying the frantic bob of his swallowing. “Slap your delightful rear until you bed me to take you, bend you over that desk of yours and have you never set at it without remembering, tie you up and leave you helpless to me-”

“I’m, ah!! P-pretty helpless right n-now.” Cullen snaps.

“You could throw me off easily and we both know it.”

Dorian gets his way, not that it was ever in any doubt, and Cullen does not leave his room again for two days. When he does he is utterly and totally deflowered in every way Dorian’s deviant mind could conjure. Cullen’s also fairly certain that Dorian isn’t at all done.


	46. Cullrian+Just the Cloak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+Just the Cloak

It takes Dorian entirely too long to notice.

He’s sunburnt from the dessert- though he won’t admit it on pain of death and his darker skin tone hides it from his paler companions so he can still sneer at the cold as they make it back to Skyhold- and chilled through just from the walk from the stables to Cullen’s office. He’s exhausted, he wants his bed and he wants Cullen.

Dorian dismissively notices only two things when he enters Cullen’s office. First, there is only one candle burning which means Cullen isn’t working for a change. Secondly, his chair has been moved to beside the bookcase instead of behind the desk. Cullen has a full view of the room, where he is presumably reading for all Dorian has the mind to notice yet, but it is important he can see Dorian as the mage drops his bag and kicks the door shut with a disgruntled huff.

“Really?! I ask you, all over that damned dessert- I have sand in all sorts of unpleasant places! There wasn’t a single thing to be done about it, I assure you I tried.” Dorian unclasps his robe from his shoulders and lets the material fall to the floor uncared for. “No, Dorian, our darling Inquisitor insists at every moment, these ungrateful people need our help and are utterly incapable of hunting a high dragon all by themselves, no, no! We must do it for them and-” Dorian turns in his pacing tirade, freezing instantly as he finally takes note of Cullen.

The man is reclined fully in his armchair, leg crossed over the other at the knee and a fist propping up his head as he observes Dorian wear grooves into his floor. He is wearing nothing but that damnable cloak, the fur ever-present around his shoulders but the cloth folds over a bare chest and frames bare arms and legs.

Dorian blinks, stalled in thought but a moment before he asks, “Are you-” Cullen lowers his crossed leg to the floor, obscenely far from his other leg in fact that he answers Dorian’s question. Yes. Cullen is naked under the cloak.

Naked.

And hard.

“Welcome back.”

Dorian’s response is most definitely a string of curses but his knee wobbles in want and he’s across the room in seconds.


	47. Cullrian+bondage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+bondage

“Stop fussing, they aren’t tight at all.” Dorian huffs as Cullen’s hands trace over his bound wrists lashed to the headboard for the tenth time.

“Oh, aren’t they?” Cullen feigns interest, fingers finding the knot and pulling tighter. Dorian’s breath hitches and he arches up against Cullen, the Commanders body pressed fully over him and pinning him to the bed. The knots still didn’t hurt but the show of force was exactly what Dorian wanted. 

“More.” Dorian demands and he’s unprepared for the way Cullen’s eyes narrow and a hand grasps under his chin.

“I thought the point of this was for me to give the orders.” It’s still the game, Dorian can see it in the flush of Cullen’s face and the hesitation in his words. They are entirely too naked for Dorian not to feel how excited Cullen is already but this isn’t enough. Not for Dorian. 

“The little lion man thinks he can command the snake mage?” He taunts, deliberately sneering at the surprised man to watch his face set, Dorian’s excitement picking up at the determined glint.

“I think next time, I’ll need another scarf for your mouth.” Cullen snaps, voice low, and Dorian thinks he can be forgiven for the noise of want that escapes him. “That’s better. On your belly.” Dorian takes too long for Cullen’s tastes and the noise Dorian makes when the Commander flips him into his front is adolescent in glee. “Shall we say… five for your sass, five for your delay in obeying… and five because I say so. Fifteen. On either side.”

“F-fifteen?” Dorian chokes out, a strangled cry leaving him when the first strike falls on his bare rear. He pulls at his bonds and writhes, the second and third strike falling immediately afterwards and Dorian cannot stop the sounds he makes- bound helpless under the weight of Cullen pressing him bodily to the bed, lazy swing of one far too strong arm as it scolds him and stains his backside scarlet. He bites his lip hard in an effort to muffle the sounds he’s making with each strike but this is too raw, too real- the idea that sweet, stammering Cullen is spanking him like an errant child and he’s bound tighter than an Antivan lockbox, unable to do anything but take it.

His hips rock into the bed with each strike, what limited movement he can manage with how Cullen has him held, and rubbing back against Cullen’s hips eagerly for more. Cullen shifts his grip so he can change hands and also strike Dorian’s other cheek, Dorian feeling the slick slide of Cullen’s cock over abused, raw skin and he whines loud and thin. He barely manages to catch his breath now as Cullen starts his assault again.

“M’gonna-!” The words escape Dorian’s mouth before he can process their truth and he comes with a strangled, shrill noise of surprise against their bedsheets.

Cullen halts instantly and Dorian is shaking under him, gentle hands easing his bonds free and carefully turning him onto his side to curl into Cullen’s hold. Not one word is said of how fast Dorian just came as Cullen carefully runs his hands through Dorian’s hair, over his skin, lips tracing his face to settle him in his skin. 

“You didn’t-” Dorian starts, realising as he manages to catch his breath.

Cullen catches his hands, gentle of where his wrists were tied, and lifts them up so he can press soft kisses to their palms. “I’m okay.”

“But-”

“Shush.” Cullen insists, curling his arms around Dorian and Dorian falls silent, too tired to argue but noting that he has a debt to repay- gladly.


	48. Iron Bull/Cullen "It's not going to fit!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron Bull/Cullen "It's not going to fit!"

“It always fits.” Bull points out, calm but with amusement tinging his tone and it does nothing to ease Cullen.

“I’m telling you, it won’t this time!” Cullen insists, fingers tight in the sheets as Bull pauses and holds still. The human is red-faced and his brow is creased in tension, if he gets any more wound up it really won’t fit. 

“Want me to stop?” Bull offers gently. It isn’t challenging, or taunting. A simple offer that Bull is happy to fulfill if Cullen truly does not want to continue. The man bites his lip and takes a slow breathe before shaking his head. He slips two fingers back into Cullen, where he’d just removed them, and spreads them wide. He’d had three in and Cullen had been taking that just fine. Bull knew what Cullen could take and he knew how to prepare a partner to take him. He’d been laying with non-qunari for a while now. “I could get you off like this, if you like.” Bull pushes a third finger back in, Cullen’s body so easy and unresistant. Bull watches Cullen’s head drop forwards as he curls his fingers expertly and makes the blonde whine. “Do you want me to?”

Cullen moans as the thrusting fingers push and turn and spread him wide, thrust in deep, rub him right where he needs them. 

“Gonna need words, Commander.”

“N-no.” Cullen chokes out on a breath.

“’No’ what, Cullen?”

Cullen gulps and Bull is perhaps cruel as he thrusts his fingers in hard again. “Cock! W-want your cock!” He manages to moan out, loud and so embarrassed that Bull has to chuckle. 

His fingers slip free from Cullen and the blonde looks over his shoulder at the qunari with a hesitant, trusting look that Bull hes yet to fully explore the limits of. “It… it will fit, right?”

Bull presses his cock against Cullen’s hole and leans over his back, keeping him warm and grounded as he nips at Cullen’s neck. “Like I said; it always fits.” He pushes in, in one long slow slide that has Cullen arching, his mouth dropping open but making no sound. He holds still as Cullen’s flesh clenches and ripples around him, the man slowly relaxing and moving back against him when he was ready. 

Bull is so pleased, he doesn’t even tease Cullen for the panic later.


	49. Sebastian/Cullen - "Punish me."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian/Cullen - "Punish me."

Someone has a weakness.

“Have you misbehaved?” Sebastian isn’t looking up from the desk or the missive he is writing and he knows Cullen hates it when he does that, when he acts like Cullen is of no more import than the furniture.

“I… I touched myself.”

Sebastian pauses and when his gaze moves up to Cullen’s, the Commander’s shoulders sag a little. The look promises punishment and he needs it. He needs it so badly. The lyrium calls to him and drives him insane, the reports of the fallen stacking up on his desk- diplomatic missions to Starkhaven are his only respite.

“No. You didn’t.” Sebastian says after a moment.

The confidence of it makes Cullen feel like a caught child and he scowls, lips curling angrily, “You wouldn’t know if I did or I did not, I am telling you I did! So punish me.”

“And I know you did not, so why don’t you just ask for whatever it is you want.” Sebastian reclined in his seat and watched Cullen with detached coldness, a reprimand for being so impudent when he needs to remember that he is addressing a King. Cullen wonders if there’s a measurement of impudence Sebastian will tolerate before throwing him in the dungeons.

“Wh… whip me. Spank me, beat me, hurt me, I don’t care.” Cullen challenges, sneer daring Sebastian to turn him down this time. That he is blushing as he always does, doesn’t matter. His fierceness speaks for him.

“I have done all of those things before and you have never seen them as punishment.” The King remarks idly.

“I want you to make it really hurt this time.”

Sebastian regards him for a long moment before picking up his quill. “No.” He says softly.

Cullen stares at him incredulously. “‘No’?” He parrots back. “You are turning me away?!” He demands. The scratch of the quill against the paper is setting Cullen’s teeth on edge and before his anger can clear he has smacked it from Sebastian’s hand. In the next moment, Sebastian is stood and his hand is around Cullen’s throat. Sneaky rogue, Cullen thinks as he finds the hold is loose enough that he can still breathe but the threat is clear.

“This arrangement is built on mutual consent, am I clear? When I say ‘no’, that is what it is. When you say ‘no’, that is also what it is. You do not get to make demands of me when I refuse, nor I you.” His fingers flex around Cullen’s throat and Cullen whines, it is pressure, just enough to make his pulse pound and he wants to push Sebastian further.

“Then you do not want me any more.” Cullen spits.

Sebastian’s hand clenches hard and Cullen lets out a thin, reedy sound before the King releases him. “Get on the bed and lie on your front.”

Cullen hurries to the divider, eager to obey, but pauses at the foot of the bed. “Don’t let me come.” He says.

“As if, after your behaviour, that was going to be an option.” Sebastian scoffs.


	50. Cullrian -"I’m your Master and you’ll do what I say."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian -"I’m your Master and you’ll do what I say."

“Yes, master.” Cullen replies instantly, no hesitation. Dorian would think he’s done this sort of thing before but the creeping rise of jealousy is unbecoming even for him so he lets that thought go.

“You’re going to prepare yourself, then fuck yourself on my cock, you aren’t to cum. Am I clear?”

“Y-yes, master.” Cullen swallows hard and Dorian watches his tremor as he takes the jar of slick from the desk, knees shifting apart on the cold stone as he moves to obey. 

“Wait.” Cullen stills instantly. “Unlock the doors. All of them.”

Cullen’s breath comes faster and Dorian can see the head of cock beading precome, the pretty ribbon Dorian tied around it doing nothing to halt the rush of arousal, though Dorian only tied it there for aesthetica appreciation- Cullen’s control is all on him. “M-master?” Cullen chokes.

“You heard me perfectly well, Cullen.” Dorian snaps.

He watches Cullen move on shaky legs, unsteady hands unlocking all three doors for any runner or messenger to open. When Cullen kneels before Dorian again, he is trembling and Dorian pauses before handing him the jar. “Colour.” He demands.

“Green.”

“Well done.” Dorian praises, handing the jar over and letting Cullen put on the show for once.


	51. Cullen/Blackwall-Touch yourself for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen/Blackwall-Touch yourself for me

“How long has it been since you did this?” The rough scrape of Blackwall’s voice still quickens his breath, no matter how the man seems to be trying to handle him carefully.

“You think I’m…” Cullen’s voice trails off but as per Blackwall’s request, his hands don’t stop moving over his body. The tremble as he pinches one nipple and moves them lower does not mean a failing on his part. The intensity of being laid bare under another’s gaze has never lessened for Cullen, not that he’s had too many partners to truly say it might never.

Blackwall scoofs a laugh. “Ha, no. I do think you’re a man too busy to truly find the time.“ He’s settled at the foot of the bed and watching Cullen, naked and reclined against the pillows while he remains fully clothed. His gaze is focused and hungry, watching where Cullen touches and giving him no direction to move faster or slower, simply watching as Cullen writhes under his own touch and flushes at the audience. He squirms and reaches for Blackwall only once, the man giving him a stern look before Cullen takes himself in hand.

The slick sounds of his own hand on his cock echo in the quiet of the room; Blackwall not making a sound and Cullen making too many. His moans get breathy, a frantic edge to it as he almost forgets Blackwall is there but snaps his eyes open to see him.

The older man’s face is impassive but Cullen can see the bulge in his breeches, knows that he did that, and it makes his mouth hang open in want. Cries spill from his throat as his head falls back and his hips snap up into his own hand, release flooding him as he cums into his own hand, thrusting weakly to chase the feeling as his chest heaves for air.

“Good lad.” Blackwall murmurs and sprawled out under his gaze as Cullen is, he knows Blackwall sees the way his cock twitches from the rough rumble of his laughter and this time when Cullen reaches for him, Blackwall lets himself be pulled closer.


	52. Cullrian-Losing a Limb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian-Losing a Limb

At first, the major problem is combat. Dorian’s fiercely determined to still be useful and still journey with the Inquisitor to make a difference. He will not be abandoned for something he will overcome and he does not believe any of them when they assure him they wouldn’t.

Vivienne and Solas, together which was strange enough, seem to respect Dorian enough to help. They tolerate none of his whining and they push him to exhaustion every day, training his body into different motions and different rhythms.

It’s difficult. Dorian has been casting magic since the first spark his infant fingers ever made. He is un-learning every pattern and teaching his body anew. His temper is foul most days when the train gets harder and he doesn’t get better as fast as he’d like. He’d drink himself into a stupour but that only makes the training worse because Vivienne really, really doesn’t tolerate a hungover pupil.

Cullen starts dragging him away for more regular chess games. Taking him lunch, making sure he eats, having words with Josie to see about clothing that is easier to pull on but doesn’t detract from his style…

It takes Dorian a long time to pull himself from his self-loathing and grim misery to realise the Commander’s doting.

The first thought is he is being pitied the way one might pity a dying bird. Something beautiful in its struggle but ultimately fleeting. Then, he thinks it’s a diversion for Cullen. A pet project to keep him focused and moving.

It’s the flowers that make Dorian stop being so spiteful and accept maybe his lack of an arm has nothing to do with it at all. Cullen has never treated hin differently because of that, simply adjusted. He’d treated Dorian differently because of his depression and anger, he’d wanted him to be okay but he had thought no more or less of him for his injury.

Cullen simply… wants Dorian.

Dorian is surprised but he supposes he could do with one more fussing suitor. That Cullen scowls and demands to know who his other suitors are just makes Dorian laugh and laugh, tears rolling down his face like he hasn’t laughed in so long.


	53. Cullrian-Booty Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian-Booty Worship

“You’re fixated.” Dorian accuses, face turned to the side as he’s pressed into the bed.

“Is that a problem?” Cullen asks already knowing the answer.

“Not when it benefits me.” Cullen can hear the smirk without looking up and shakes is head, hands kneading the plumpness of Dorian’s rear.

Cullen was perhaps too polite to say so, but Dorian’s ass was the first thing he’d noticed about the mage- aside from the ridiculous moustache. Dorian himself was trim if broad for a mage, well muscled and so well kept. Obsessively so. But his ass… it was full and round, the shape of it considered womanly if not for the narrow hips, hard muscled thighs and of course the cock and balls Cullen can see further down.

Cullen bites his teeth into Dorian’s left cheek, hard enough the mage makes a startled sound and his head snaps up to glare over his shoulder. “Is that necessary?” Dorian demands.

The flat of Cullen’s tongue presses over the bite, soothing the reddened skin. “Yes.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to it before moving on.

The idea that sparks in his mind is deviant. Cullen’s throat clenches at voicing it but he’s rarely voiced much in the bedroom. He always goes slow and Dorian is patient, listening to what his hands do and moving with him. He shuffles upright and rests his cock in the curve of Dorian’s ass, hands spreading Dorian wide so Cullen can rock experimentally against him. The mage murmurs a curious, pleased sound and Cullen does it again.

The girth of his cock rubs teasingly over Dorian’s hole, but he makes no attempts to enter and there is no slick to even allow that. So Cullen gets some, reaching for the half used vial on the side table. Not to take Dorian, drizzling it instead down the cleft of Dorian’s ass and letting his cock thrust firmer now. Instead of holding Dorian’s ass spread he now kneads it around his cock, hips bouncing the pert flesh with each thrust.

He can hear Dorian panting under him, the flush of excitement spread over his skin as Cullen takes his pleasure and Dorian lies there, rocking back and feeling as Cullen’s pleasure overtakes him and the man comes hard, spilling between Dorian’s cheeks and into the small of his back.

Dorian chuckles as the exhausted Commander slumps over him and blonde curls tickle his jaw. “That fixated, amatus?”

Cullen murmurs his agreement and reaches under Dorian to grip his cock, still hard and jerking him slowly. Anything to shut his teasing up, Maker knows once they leave this bed Dorian will be taunting him with his rear forever.


	54. Cullrian-Cullen spoiling Dorian rotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian-Cullen spoiling Dorian rotten

“I think you might be spoiling me.”

“It’s taken you this long to notice?” Cullen does not look up from polishing his sword and Dorian’s got five filthy jokes he wants to make but he actually wants an answer to this more than he wants to make Cullen blush.

“I am rather accustomed to the finer things in life, I tend to expect to be showered with gifts.” Dorian smiles at the raised eyebrow as he finally garners Cullen’s attention enough to look up. “Did you forget I was a Lord?”

Cullen scoffs. “Never.”

Dorian raises his chin elegantly and hums, “Good.” He pauses a moment as Cullen chuckles, letting the good mood settle before he continues, “I do have to ask, however, is there a reason?”

“For what?”

“Oh, I don’t know; the wine, the bath oils, the perfumes, the books, the chocolates… Cullen, you remember we’ve already courted, right?” Dorian reminds him gently.

Cullen gives him a wry, indulgent smile. “I wasn’t aware I needed a reason to spoil you.”

Dorian laughs, “Everyone needs a reason, amatus.” He waggles his eyebrows, “Did you want something in particular?”

Cullen’s frown deepens. “I don’t want anything. I just wanted to make you smile.” He sets aside his sword and cocked his head. “If you don’t like them, I can get you other things, but I like giving you things that you enjoy. That can be my reason, if you like. I enjoy seeing you happy.”

Dorian’s eyebrows are raised in surprise as he listens, an unsteady, “oh” leaving him at Cullen’s declaration.

The commander gives him a sad smile, the knowledge that Dorian has never been given an agenda-free gift in his entire life going unsaid between them as Cullen stands. He groans as his tired muscles protest but he does it anyway, kneeling before Dorian with his hands on the mage’s knees. “Does it make you feel uncomfortable?”

Dorian swallows hard. “I… no. I just… I didn’t think you wouldn’t want something in return.”

“Well, now you know. You enjoyed the book I got you so much last week, I was so proud of myself.” Cullen admits, thumb rubbing over Dorian’s knee. “You are a man of fine tastes, I enjoy getting you something you like.”

Dorian swallows again, “Oh, Cullen…” He leans forward and a hand cups Cullen’s face. The commander presses his own hand to Dorian’s on his face, turning to press a kiss to the open palm.

“I love you; there’s my reason.” Cullen gives a wide, so tender smile, that twists his scar up and makes Dorian’s heart ache.

“You besotted fool.” Dorian kisses Cullen’s brow and the blonde laughs.

“I’m going to keep doing it, if it’s all the same. I like the way you smile when I give you a gift.” Cullen adds, receiving no verbal answer as Dorian slips from his chair and pushes Cullen to the floor, kissing him feverishly.

Cullen may want nothing, but Dorian will give him everything anyway.


	55. Cullrian-cuddlemonster cullen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian-cuddlemonster cullen

“Must you?” Dorian huffs; hands fumbling the book he almost dropped in fright.

“Yes.” Cullen answers simply, arms wrapped tight around Dorian’s waist from behind as he presses the mage tight to his chest. “I must.”

Dorian sighs as if it is a monumental effort to stand there as Cullen hugs him, tsking the nose that bumps behind his ear and down his neck, ignoring the lips that follow. “What on Thedas has you in such a good mood?” He muses as teeth drag over his neck.

Cullen gives him no answer but kisses him again before departing, a ruffled but hardly displeased Dorian left behind to shake the moment free and continue his research.

It happens again at the tavern. Cullen rarely has time to linger and partake but he stays for one drink and stands behind Dorian, arm around Dorian’s waist and holding him close. This embrace is not tight like the other had been, nor a possessive show of ownership. He simply holds Dorian as they laugh and talk, Dorian letting him and enjoying the contact, before a parting kiss his pressed to his mouth and Cullen leaves.

It is a hug first when Cullen wakes petrified from nightmares, one arm over the shoulder when the sit beside each other, tugging Dorian to lie on him when they read by the fireplace- Cullen has no end of embraces and seemingly even less of an end to his desire to envelope Dorian in his arms for no excuse at all.

Cullen hadn’t exactly been tactile when they first started courting but his touches would linger more and more as he fell for Dorian. Little by little a brush of fingers to his jaw became hands cupping him warmly, and a hand on his lower back became an embrace Cullen would not release unless he had to.

“Oh for- Cullen!” Dorian snaps as his book is jostled free from his hands at the sudden clasp of strong arms around him. “Really? Can you not simply announce yourself? Or wait until tonight?”

Cullen’s arms loosen in an instant and he backs away. “Ah… my apologies.” Dorian blinks at the response, the bite of his words registering on his tongue as Cullen won’t look at him. The blush across his cheeks is one of shame, not excitement, and Dorian ignores his dropped book as the entire library turns to look at Dorian’s outburst. “It won’t happen again.” Cullen promises and that feels like a slap, the way he shuffles from the library and Dorian can feel every pair of eyes narrow at him in disapproval.

He hadn’t meant to never embrace him again, had simply meant that he didn’t much care for the frights. But he shouldn’t be the one to remind the Commander of the Inquisition about propriety, and he shouldn’t feel so sternly judged for it. Everyone always talked about how much more Cullen smiled now, but he shouldn’t be running around hugging Tevinter mages until they have a heart attack.

Maybe a little peace would do them both good.

He stubbornly refuses to take back his words and when he returns to their quarters that night, Cullen does not seem all that different. He does not stand and embrace Dorian as he used to, instead a soft chaste kiss at his desk before Dorian settles in his chair by the fire and Cullen moves to take the other chair. Cullen does not try and coax Dorian into sitting in his chair with him, nor does he fold his limbs around Dorian that night as they lie in bed. Their arms brush and Dorian frowns a little, tangling their fingers to remedy it and wondering why Cullen’s distance bothers him when he demanded it.

Only one day without Cullen embracing him as he had- a gentle hand on his shoulder as he passes, standing a respectable few inches apart at the tavern, simply a call of his name and a nod in the library…

“I take it back.” Dorian snaps as Cullen turns to head up to Leliana.

Cullen cocks his head. “Take what back?”

“You know very well what! You’re doing this on purpose. I only wanted you not to frighten me with sneaking up on me, but I can’t stand it! You’re keeping away from me entirely!” Dorian prods Cullen hard where his breastplate doesn’t cover in the join of his shoulders.

Cullen gives him an innocent look. “I am not, you wanted space and I am giving it.”

“Not this much!”

“Could it be… you like my hugging you?” Cullen muses, a smug curl of triumph in his eyes as Dorian glowers.

“You are awful.”

Cullen opens his arms but does not move and Dorian stubbornly refuses to cross the distance until the Commander’s arms lower and he turns to leave again. Dorian collides with Cullen’s back and it is only the blonde’s bulk that saves them from collapsing to the floor. Dorian’s arms twine around Cullen’s shoulders, lacing around his collar and refusing to let go.

“You are awful!” He repeats. “You Fereldan bastard! Yes I like your damned hugs, you horrible, horrible man!”

Cullen chuckles and Dorian buries his face in Cullen’s fur as the various mages shuffling about the shelves coo and ‘aww’ over them. 

“For a man who hates being the subject of gossip, you spark rather a lot of it at your own hand.” Dorian accuses as Cullen turns in his grasp to hold him back.

Cullen smiles. “It’s worth it this time.”


	56. Cullrian-Wrong hole!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian-Wrong hole!"

Cullen woke with a pleasant hum of arousal, the weight of Dorian against him a warm line of welcome intimacy that had his morning wood slightly more interested than usual. Their activities the night before had left him loose and still happily relaxed, and he was rocking his hips against Dorian before he could put much thought into it.

Dorian thrashed against him and Cullen became aware that what he was nuzzling his face against was Dorian’s thigh, not his shoulder. “Wrong hole, you Fereldan barbarian!” Voice rough with sleep, he still managed to sound shrill and it snapped Cullen more to waking.

Dorian sat up and rubbed disgustedly at his ear. “How are you having this problem?! You figured it all out well enough last night!” Cullen stared at the ear he was rubbing to Dorian and then paled.

“Maker… I didnt mean-”

“I hope not, otherwise we are going to have a problem.” Dorian shuddered before lying down the right way up this time. “Do try not to fuck my ear this time.” He remarked with a huff and Cullen couldn’t help but start laughing, which only earned him a more offended glare.


	57. Sullen-Put on a show for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sullen-Put on a show for me

“Slower.” Samson orders, Cullen pausing half way through unbuckling his belt. The younger man blinks at him in confusion so he adds, “Put on a show for me.” Cullen, predictably, flushes scarlet and his breath stutters. Surprisingly, Cullen obeys, though he looks so redfaced Samson is almost concerned.

Samson watches it all with a leering smirk, every flutter of fabric and clank of buckles and armour. He impassively gives no direction or approval beyond his smirk, watching Cullen’s hands shake as he drops the skirts of the armour; the last piece he’d left for protection. They pool at Cullen’s feet and Samson wants to tell him he’s seen poorer displays at the Rose, but Cullen has apparently been tormented enough and launches himself at Samson.

Samson chuckles into the kiss Cullen catches him in, pushing him back with one hand as he passes the jar of slick into his hands. “I said; put on a show.” Samson reclines further, hand slowly curling around his own cock as he watches Cullen stare at the jar of slick in embarrassed terror. He should make Cullen do this more often.


	58. Cullrian "safe place"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian "safe place"

When he wakes- sweating, terrified, horrors lingering in his eyes that won’t fade- he reaches for a sword. For protection.

He will not fall, he will not break.

What his fingers close around instead is warm skin. Warm and smooth where Cullen is clammy and shaking; peacefully asleep and murmuring as Cullen’s other hand rests on him. Two roughened palms brush over Dorian’s back and shoulders, down his arms and pressing his face to Dorian’s shoulder blade.

The fingers of memories and nightmares loosen their grip and Cullen feels his breathing even with Dorian’s, the nage alive and content beside him. He closes his eyes and listens to Dorian’s heavy breaths as he presses more kisses to his lover’s body. Cullen’s arms curl around Dorian, hugging him close as the mage fusses at the disturbance but settles on Cullen’s chest. Dark fingers hold weakly around him and Cullen counts every breath, every heartbeat. He does not wake Dorian, glad that the mage hadn’t been woken anyway, but just holding his lover is comfort enough. It reminds him of the truth; they are alive, they are safe.

It is in moments like this that Cullen truly knows what Dorian has given him. All his love and all he has, is for Dorian. Dorian returns that but what he gives Cullen when the nightmares don’t stop and he can’t breathe for the fear that chokes him, it is safety. Warm open arms that hold him tight, assure him he is loved and that he is alive.

“…len?” Dorian slurs against his neck. He tries to sit up but Cullen’s arms tighten and Dorian stops, slowly holding him back just as tight. Dorian is a clever man but this happens often enough he doesn’t need it explaining. “Love you.”

Cullen presses his face into Dorian’s hair and sighs out a breath of relief, kissing the top of his head. “I love you, too.”


	59. Cullrian-Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian-Temptation

“And you want to… there?!” Cullen squeaks ‘there’ with all the same horror as if Dorian had just said he’d rather like to go down on Corypheus and it takes all of his considerable but rarely exercised restraint not to laugh.

“Not if you are so wholly opposed to the idea.” Dorian replies mildly instead. While Cullen is apparently more than fine with having a cock in his arse, this seems to be too much for his delicate chantry boy sensibilities and while Dorian is so sorely tempted to wear him down so he can see that scandalised face when he does it, he also very much doesn’t want to push Cullen out of his comfort zone.

“But… why would you want to do that? It doesn’t seem fun for you.” Cullen frowns like he can’t grasp at the concept and Dorian has to wonder if Cullen’s more innocent, endearing qualities might be the death of him.

“Sucking my cock offers you no benefit, yet you do that with glee.”

“T-that’s… different. I like d-doing… that ”

“And why would that be?”

“I like what it… does to you.”

“And therein lies your answer, amatus.” Dorian finishes with the smallest flourish he can manage. “I like doing things to you that make you a writhing hulk of wanton desire, crying out for my touch.”

“M-Maker’s breath!” Cullen chokes, such a delightful shade of red that he always turns when they discuss intimate things. Give the man a sword and he’ll cut down armies, but tell him you wouldn’t shoving your tongue up his arse and he stammers incoherently for a minute. Dorian prays their enemies never find that detail out, but it would make for an interesting battle at least. He shakes the image of thirty red templars shouting crude offets of sexual acts at Cullen from his mind.

“You get my point.” Dorian waves at him and can’t help smiling, Cullen is so easily his elder and the accomplished, experienced Commander but in this Dorian tends to lead. Cullen isn’t virginal by any means, but he is so wonderfully vanilla that Dorian can’t help wanting to corrupt him. Just a bit.

“I j-just… it doesn’t seem… clean.” Cullen ducks his head as if that might hide his blush and Dorian can’t help but chuckle then..

He lifts a small item up to Cullen. “That’s why you’ll wash with this.” As if it should be obvious. Cullen looks up to the little object as Dorian squeezes it gently. Much like a tiny bellows it pushes air out and Dorian helpfully chirps, “Of course when you bathe, that’ll be water and you’ll put it-”

“No.” Cullen instantly blurts and Dorian shuts up.

“Too far?” Cullen looks about one moment from fainting. The man nods and Dorian quickly puts the little device away in a drawer before smiling gently. “These things we talk about… they are not an obligation, Cullen. Don’t feel guilty when you do not want to do them.” He can see the man already turning inwards and berating himself. Cullen looks up at him and then away as if ashamed.

“I don’t… I don’t like denying you things.” Cullen confesses. “I want you to have everything.”

How strange, Dorian finds it, that Cullen cannot talk about their sex life without turning every shade of red under the sun, but only a hint of pink when he so easily discusses the depths of his feelings and it is the sex Dorian can talk about almost dismissively, but the emotions he struggles to give voice to. “I do have everything.” Dorian says softly, hand closing around Cullen’s. “Never think that I do not. Though… I could do with a kiss.”

Cullen gives a breathless, huff of a laugh and leans forward eagerly. “That I can do.”

And Dorian dismisses that as the end of it. He leaves the discarded cleaning tool in a drawer, figuring they might never have need of it, and forgets about the idea but for the occasional fantasy.

Cullen does not.

Cullen worries and frets, turns the idea over and around in his mind until ultimately he decides he’s being silly to rule it out without even entertaining it. It isn’t as if Dorian would hurt him, or not let him back out. He could try as far as he was comfortable with and see how it went.

Still, the idea of embarrassing himself kept him quiet for a long while. Longer still when he took the previously discarded device and set about trying it out.

Cullen was very much not a fan of that thing, at all. At least it was fairly self-explanatory and he could tend to himself without having to ask anyone any further embarrassing questions.

Dorian is painfully aware that Cullen is hiding something and curiosity turns to worry when Cullen shies away from him throughout the day. He thinks he’s done something wrong and corners Cullen in a corridor to apologise.

“You think… Maker, no. Dorian, you haven’t done anything!” Cullen assures him.

Dorian frowns. “I thought… this morning, when I… I mean, you can tell me when you aren’t in the mood, you know that right? It just seemed like you didn’t want me to touch you.”

“Oh. That.” Cullen flushes, rubbing at his neck and looking around the empty corridor nervously. “It wasn’t you… I… I-I want something. I just… h-haven’t found… the w-words. T-to a-ask.” Cullen coughs and can’t quite make eye contact until he falls silent, as if pleading Dorian to just read his mind.

“Anything, Cullen.” Dorian promises. Curiosity pulls at him and he wants to needle Cullen into telling him but forces himself not to, “I won’t pry. Whenever you are ready.”

Cullen grasps his hand pleadingly, “I am ready… I just…”

Dorian’s lip curls in a smirk. “It’s too filthy for your sensibilities, isn’t it?” Cullen flushes darker and grudgingly nods. “My, my… what could it be…”

Cullen looks wide-eyed around them again, “Can w-we… go somewhere else, please?”

Dorian obligingly pulls them into an unused side room, the threat of discovery still looming when there is no lock. The corridor isn’t heavily trafficked but someone could always use it anyway. There’s an array of furniture that probably hasn’t seen the light of day for the last few ages, Dorian pushing Cullen to lean against a large table. “And now that I have you alone? Won’t you tell me? A clue, perhaps?”

Cullen’s hands settle on his waist as Dorian stands flush to him. He doesn’t pin him, ever gentle with his skittish Commander, but he does rest his hands on the table behind Cullen and lean in. His mouth meets Cullen’s and the Commander makes a low noise of want, chasing Dorian’s mouth when the mage draws back.

“I could name every filthy act under the sun, amatus, but it might be more time efficient to give me a clue.” Dorian hums, mouth tracing Cullen’s jaw.

“O-oh… I-I, um…” Cullen is finding it difficult to think clearly with Dorian’s mouth kissing down his neck, not that he could grasp at the words anyway. “Do you remember… that t-thing…”

“I remember a good many things.” Dorian quips, teeth dragging over the bob of Cullen’s throat as the man swallows.

“You know… the thing.” Cullen gulps. “You, er… you w-wanted to…” Dorian’s mouth sucks lightly at the join of Cullen’s neck and shoulder, nestled so comfortably in Cullen’s fur and humming encouragingly. “Y-your mouth… d-down, on m-my…”

Dorian takes pity on the struggling Commander and hums thoughtfully. “Wait, are you talking about me eating you out?”

Cullen’s head drops and he makes a pained, strangled noise against Dorian’s shoulder. “Oh, Maker…”

“Is that a yes?”

“…y-yes…”

Dorian grins wolfishly, “I had wondered where my little toy went.”

“Oh, you… I… I’ve been using it.” Cullen chokes.

“Yes, I had rather worked that out.” Dorian taps Cullen’s jaw and chuckles. “Have you used it today?”

“Yes…”

“Would you like me to take advantage of this fact?” Cullen’s nod is so endearingly eager for a man that had outright refused the notion of such a thing. “Then you had best take your clothes off.”

It wasn’t their first time having sex in half-secluded areas around Skyhold and Cullen doesnt offer argument as he strips fast, in militaristic fashion. Dorian does not help him or join him, instead watching the view as Cullen is laid bare and leans against the table. He watches Dorian with flushed cheeks and hooded eyes, his cock already hard and more than interested. Dorian moves to him, feeling as Cullen’s fingers pull at his clothes but don’t do much to remove them. He gets so aroused when he is bare and Dorian isn’t. Their mouths meet and Cullen groans into his mouth, Dorian kissing him hard as Cullen rocks against his hips. Cullen whines when Dorian moves back, not letting him catch his mouth again. “Turn around.”

Cullen obeys but, oh… how his eyes darken at being the one to follow orders. He so readily presents himself when Dorian presses one hand between his shoulder blades and pushes him down to rest on the table. His legs stay straight, spreading so wantonly that Dorian has to smirk. Cullen trusts him implicitly, and even if he has doubts still about whether he will enjoy this or not, he trusts Dorian to make it good. He wants whatever Dorian will give. There is a heady power in that control and Dorian shivers as he moves his hands over Dorian’s back.

“Do you think you can tell me what you want yet?” He asks.

Cullen shivers. “You know what I want…”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Dorian, I…” Cullen’s breath stutters as Dorian’s hands settle on his hips, his hips pressing to Cullen’s rear and the hard outline of Dorian’s cock against him distracts him. “Y-your mouth.” Dorian’s mouth obligingly moves over Cullen’s neck.

“Here?”

“N-no…”

Dorian’s mouth kisses lower, following the dip of his spine and humming over Cullen’s scars, paying extra attention. “Here?”

“Dorian…” Cullen is definitely whining now.

Dorian slides a finger between Cullen’s arse cheeks, brushing over his hole and smirking at the surprised gasp. Cullen arches into the touch and Dorian presses gently again, just a gentle push of skin. “Here, Cullen? Is this where you want me?”

“Y-yes…” Cullen’s face is pressed into his arms, fingers digging at the table surface as the man wrestles with crippling embarrassment and unadulterated want. It is the perfect juxtaposed balancing act that Dorian likes to leave him in; begging for Dorian’s touch but incoherent with shock at what they are doing, so wholly overrun with pleasure that he can barely breathe.

“Do you want my mouth here?”

“Y-yes!”

“Licking at you, licking you open?”

“M-Maker…”

“Do you want me to hold you open and fuck you on my tongue until you are shaking with need?”

“Dorian… please, yes!”

So Dorian obliges finally, as frantic need tinges Cullen’s words. He slides to his knees, hands pushing Cullen wide and baring him as Dorian’s mouth kisses his tail bone. In the next moment, his breath ghosts over Cullen’s hole and he shudders. Dorian feels it in the flesh he grasps, squeezing once to make Cullen moan as he licks once. It’s like he’s struck Cullen, the shocked squeak of sound that escapes. So Dorian does it again. And again. And again.

Each lap of Dorian’s tongue has Cullen making the same startled, steadily higher sound until Dorian doesn’t draw back at all. His tongue laps the circle of Cullen’s hole and he moves his lips over it, the slick skin letting him give the most obscene kiss to Cullen’s body and he doesn’t stop.

Cullen is beside himself, fevered need turning his moans and gasps frantic. His fingers drag across the table and he arches back into Dorian’s mouth. He has no presence of mind beyond Dorian and what Dorian is doing to him, hearing nothing but the obscene slide of Dorian’s mouth over him and the rooms echo of his cries. Gently, and so slowly, Dorian’s tongue probes at him. It pushes so gently at his hole and Cullen makes a sound like a dying Halla as it breaches him. Dorian’s tongue thrusts idly into him, drawing back and lapping at him again before pushing him open just enough- not a wider stretch than the tip of his tongue- before drawing back. A slow process that Dorian increases until the length of his tongue is fucking into Cullen’s spit slicked hole, sensitive and open as the lewd sounds of exactly what Cullen is letting Dorian do to him echo in his ears. His cock hangs thick and heavy between his legs, dripping and untouched as Dorian fucks him steadily with his tongue. He cannot even hear the sounds he makes, but Dorian does. And, Dorian thinks, so do most of Skyhold.

He is like a man possessed, writhing under Dorian’s mouth like he knows no greater pleasure than this torment and Dorian cannot resist pushing the tip of one finger in alongside his tongue. Cullen reacts beautifully to the extra stretch, a desperate groan and pushing back for more. So Dorian obliges, rocking his finger in and out and sucking greedily at Cullen’s hole until one finger becomes two. He pushes them wide and slides his tongue between them, not relenting even as his jaw aches and he tires. He is high off the sounds Cullen makes alone and he will not relent until the mountains echo with Cullen’s cries of Dorian’s name. A lofty goal perhaps, but not unimaginable with the sound Cullen is making.

Cullen comes, still untouched and quite suddenly, but like the Maker himself as ripped his release from him. He arches so taut it looks painful before slumping onto the desk in a heap, nothing but the aged furniture holding him up as Dorian gently rocks his fingers until Cullen all but weeps for him to stop.

“You are the very embodiment of my every temptation…” Dorian muses as he brushes Cullen’s sweat-slicked hair from his brow.

Cullen murmurs incoherently and curls into Dorian’s touch, though Dorian does not stop congratulating himself, loudly, all the way back to Cullen’s office when every servant looks their way and flushes before scurrying away.


	60. Cullrian+Makeup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian+Makeup

“Amatus, you are staring.” Dorian observes off-hand, eyes not leaving his own reflection as the strange pencil he wielded hovered dangerously close to his eye.

“I’m just… curious.”

“Oh I never meant it was a bad thing.” Dorian smirks, hand confidantly and easily tracing a slow line around under his eye.“Stare at me all you please.”

Cullen returns the smile in the mirror, watching from the bed as Dorian readies himself for the day. Cullen is putting off leaving the bed until the last moment, but he doesn’t have quite the complicated routine as Dorian. “I’ve only seen men at court wear make-up.”

“A travesty the world over that soldiers don’t wear it more.” Dorian muses, switching to the other eye. “You’d be surprised what a little eyeliner can do. There, wouldn’t you agree?” Dorian turns round to present his completed face and Cullen’s smile widens.

“I would.” His hand reaches for Dorian and the mage darts away with a laugh.

“Oh, no you don’t. I just finished getting ready.” Dorian mock-scolds him, gesturing to the sheet covering Cullen’s nakedness. “Something you should think about.”

“Now you want me in clothes? Dorian, do make up your mind, love.” Cullen teases.

“If I could get away with you parading naked about Skyhold, I would. However I don’t think training your men would be very safe without your armour.” Dorian smooths down his robes as Cullen stands from the bed, distracted entirely at his lover’s nakedness as Cullen succeeds in pulling the mage to him.

“Then maybe we should keep the parading to our bedroom.”

“Harsh terms, but I accept.” Dorian obliges Cullen with a chaste kiss, letting his hands rest over the Commander’s arse and smirking at the blush that takes over Cullen’s cheeks. “Get dressed, amatus. We should have been there an hour ago.”

Cullen groans, steals another kiss, and then dresses himself. As he is fastening his breeches he looks down at the little pencil and hums curiously, “Do you think… it would look nice on me?”

Dorian pauses where he is doing up the many buckles on his shoes and cocks his head thoughtfully. “Only one way to find out.”

Cullen decides he likes it. After training, when it has sweated and streaked down his face however, he likes it less so. Cassandra doesn’t stop laughing for a full minute when he takes off his helmet.


	61. Cullrian-pinning the other against a wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian-pinning the other against a wall

“Cullen, slow down.” Dorian couldn’t believe he was the one saying this, not after all the flirting and coy looks- all the infernal stepping around the maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t.

But he does, apparently. The hands pulling at him and the body crushing him into the aged stone wall make that very clear. Lips worrying at his neck draw back and the thigh Cullen is grinding between Dorian’s legs stills. Now the flush darkens, embarrassment catching up with the Commander as he hears Dorian. “I’m sorry, that was… really nice.” He offers with a duck of his head. Dorian will need to bring this up with the Inquisitor; a man that fierce should not look so endearing when he blushes. It should be made illegal.

“Don’t apologise for that, please.” Dorian tightens his hold around Cullen. “The kiss was one thing but I was starting to think you wanted to take me right here in the corridor.” Cullen stammers over a word and Dorian’s eyerbrows shoot up in surprise. “You were, weren’t you?!” His lips curl in a smirk and he eyes Cullen as if seeing him for the first time. “Well aren’t I a lucky man…”

“I suppose we should… probably go somewhere less… exposed.” Cullen admits.

“No, no. I was rather enjoying all that unbridled passion, why not see if we can get away with this? Oh the colour your face will turn if we’re caught…" 

"We really shouldn’t…” Cullen bites at his lower lip and Dorian thumbs over it gently. 

“It was your idea.” Dorian accuses. “I’ll bet the oil is already in your pocket, like a good, always prepared chantry boy." 

"Nothing wrong with being prepared.” Cullen defends as Dorian’s prediction is affirmed. 

“Quite right.” Dorian hooks a leg up around Cullen’s hips and grinds them together, swaying Cullen’s hesitation from mind entirely.“Now, I believe we were at the part where you chew on my neck like a mabari, correct?”


	62. Cullrian-porn stash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian-porn stash

The first thing Dorian sees when he returns to Skyhold is that there is a soft, fuzzy creature living on Cullen’s face. He tells the Commander as much and Cullen has the audacity to look offended. If anyone should be offended here, it is Dorian and everyone else who has to look upon that ridiculous thing. 

“It’s eating your face.”

“It’s a moustache, Dorian, not a parasite! I rather thought you’d know that what with your own right there.” Cullen points an accusing finger at Dorian’s own, impeccably styled, moustache.

“I hate it.”

Cullen rolls his eyes at Dorian, moving towards him to greet him properly since Dorian had frozen half way to his desk in abject horror. Cullen leans in and Dorian instantly leans back.

“What in the Maker’s name are you doing?!”

Cullen blinks. “I was trying to kiss you.”

“Not with that monstrosity on your face, you’re not.”

“Oh for- Dorian, it’s just a moustache.”

“I hope you and your moustache are very happy together, because I’m not having sex with you until that thing is gone.” Cullen’s hands close around his hips and Dorian dodges another kiss. “I mean it!” He whines as Cullen instead moves to Dorian’s neck and the mage instantly knows he has lost. “No, no, I refuse to have sex with you and that ridiculous caterpillar on your face.” He insists.

“Then you should probably stop undoing my belt.” Cullen murmurs into Dorian’s collar.

“One time! We do this one time and then you shave it off.”

“Yes, love.”


	63. Cullrian-Cure for a Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullrian-Cure for a Cold

“Culle-d!" 

Cullen snorted and pressed his gloved hand to his mouth, knowing he did not catch the sound fast enough when a petulant whine pierces the air. 

"Culle-d!” Comes the more inistant demand. 

Cullen bites his lower lip hard before calling up to the loft, “Yes, my love?”

“Venhedis! My head hurts! I can’t breathe! My throat is sore!” Dorian’s distressed protests of his predicament were endearingly amusing but the mage only got more irritated at Cullen’s amusement, even when he could only hear it, Cullen could picture him thrashing in their bed and glaring at the ceiling. 

"Perhaps some tea, my love?“ Cullen offers, standing from the desk to fetch some. 

"Maker take you and your blasted tea!” Dorian wails dramatically, “Get up here and dote on me!" 

Cullen looks at his cluttered desk. "But-" 

"Culle-d!” Dorian barks, then hiccups on a sob. “Culle-d” he repeats, softer and more of a plea. 

Cullen knows its deliberate manipulation even as he’s half way up the ladder. He isn’t even stern when Dorian regards hin smugly and demands he rubs the pungent poultice into his chest. 

Dorian may make an adorable invalid, but he’s still a brat.

My brat, Cullen thinks fondly, as Dorian eases into sleep under the slow rub of Cullen’s hand on his chest and his breathing relaxed thanks to the rub. 

Adorable or not, Cullen can’t wait for Dorian to get better.

He slips down the ladder as silently as he can, almost to his desk when a recruit clatters open the door. “Reports, ser!” She declares brightly. 

"…Culle-d?“ Comes the thin, demanding croak from above their heads and Cullen flinches, glaring at the recruit who beats a hasty retreat.


	64. One-sided Cullrian, Cullen/Inquisitor-Unrequited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One-sided Cullrian, Cullen/Inquisitor-Unrequited

It stings, Dorian notes absently. Rejection is not unfamiliar to him but this cuts deeper than before. It shouldn’t. Dorian is no child. He holds no one accountable for his foolish fixation other than himself. Because foolish is what it is, and even if things are different in the south this pain is still the same.

That he sees the giddy flush of new love in his friend’s face every time she visits the library- never failing to take a detour through Cullen’s office before- he feels the sour rot of pain curl tighter. Like wire around his heart that pulls tighter each time he wonders if she can still taste the Commander’s lips on hers.

It is a disservice of him, she is his friend- the closest he has- and he should be happy for her.

He isn’t. He would tear them apart if he thought he could stand the heartache that would follow. The only thing that stays his hand is the thought that even if they were not together, he would not have Cullen. All he would have is two betrayed friends and he likes to think he’d be disappointed in himself.

He wonders if the Fereldan cold has seeped into his bones and turned him ice hearted and cruel, but Dorian knows he has always been this selfish. Denied so much for so long, he has no qualms snatching things from others. It is kindness that stays his hands, but it is not his own kindness.

It is theirs.

It is her smile whenever he sees her, like she’s been excited to see him all day and always eager to talk with him for hours. It is his when Cullen invites him for chess and seems so at ease with him- the ex-templar happy to call an evil Tevinter mage a friend.

He does not feel their disappointment when he tells them he takes his leave after Corypheus’ fall. Dorian brushes their sad remarks off like he might dust off a book. He cannot remain. He does not like the man this hurt makes him, he has good to do and he will not do it while he moons over a man who does not want him.

Dorian does not say goodbye when he leaves.

It is his final, petulant protest. The childish need to make them hurt, just a little. To hurl a crack at their enviable domesticity and make them see him through their doe-eyed looks.

Let them curse him, let them feel wounded pride at his carelessness. Let them ponder on him and feel entitled to his time, insist to each other he should have said farewell. Let the thought of him linger in quiet moments when she sees his empty chair or he lacks a friend to talk with.

Let them feel a fraction of the hurt he has carried.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr: akaiba.tumblr.com


End file.
